UC-NRLF 


B    3    3M2    3fll 


American  Dramatists  Series 

©ollars(  antr  ^m^t 


(^tto  ST.  llraemer  anb 
Hester  W.  JIumpfjrepff 


American  Dramatists  Series 

DOLLARS   AND 
SENSE 

A  Story  in  Four  Acts 

BY 

OTTO   J.    KRAEMER 

and 

LESTER  W.   HUMPHREYS 


BOSTON :  THE  GORHAM  PRESS 

TORONTO:      THE    COPP   CLAKK   CO.,    LIMITED 


Copyright,  1915,  by  Otto  J.  Kraemer  and  Lester  W.  Humphreys 


All  Rights  Reserved 


The  Gorham  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


To  those  whose  language  and  ideas  we 
have  so  freely  borrotved,  and  to 
Lucile   Harlow 
as  perfect  a  dimpled  little  brown- 
eyed  darling  as  ever  lived, 
this  book  is  dedicated. 


372218 


DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 
A  Story  in  Four  Acts 


CHARACTERS 

Fr. — Dr.   Frank   Mason,  a  physician. 
Ann — Ann    Chandler,  sister   of   George. 
Lord  N. — Lord  Nowit,  an  English  nobleman. 
Geo. — George    Chandler,    banker,    afterward    gov- 
ernor. 
Luc. — Lucille,  niece  of  George  and  Ann.  {Age  six) 
Ruth— Ruth  Williams. 

Mrs.  W.—Mrs.  Williams,  mother  of  Ruth. 
J  as. — Jasper   Church. 
Gus. — Augustus  Geldmacher. 
Nogi — Xogi,  a  Japanese  servant. 
Rob. — Robert    Gray. 


DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 


ACT  I 

San  Francisco^  Sunday  afternoon,  April  15,  l9o6» 
2  P.  M.  Drawing-room  in  the  home  of  George 
Chandler. 

{Frank  meditating.  Ann  enters  unobserved.) 
Ann.  Well,  what  profound  thoughts  you  must 
have.  Is  it  a  case  of  silent  meditation  fancy  free? 
I  would  actually  give  you  a  penny  for  those  thoughts. 
Fr.  Sold.  The  bargain's  closed,  and  I'll  trust 
you  for  the  penny.  "I  was  thinking  of  running 
waters, — how  they  their  shores  caress.  How  many 
times  in  kisses  sweet,  my  lips  to  yours  were  pressed. 
How  in  all  this  wide,  wide  world  I  love  you  best 
of  any.  Now  don't  you  think  my  thoughts  are 
worth  more  than  a  penny?" 

Ann.  Certainly  not.  It  was  a  case  of  my  buying 
a  cat  in  a  sack.  But  I'm  a  good  loser.  I'll  pay 
the  penny. 

Fr.     Dearest,  w^on't  you  ever  be  serious?  . 
Ann.     I  am  serious,  but  I  have  had  such  thoughts 
from  you  time  and  time  again  for  nothing. 
Fr.     And  you  think  them  good  for  nothing? 
Ann.     Yes,   that's   it.       I   think  them  good   for 
nothing  and  yet.     No — 

Fr.     I  should  have  added,  that  as  I  sat  there  in 

thought  profound,  this  maxim  wise  I  drew:    "It's 

easier  to  love  a  girl,  than  make  a  girl  love  you." 

Ann.     Certainly,  love  is  a  thing  you  can't  compel. 

Fr.     If  ever  a  man  loved  a  girl,  I  do  you  and  you 

9 


lo  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

know  it.  Heaven  bear  witness  that  no  love  could 
be  more  sincere.  No  one  could  revere  you  more. 
I  worship  you.  You  are  an  angel  upon  earth,  if  ever 
there  was  one.  I  can't  live  without  you.  I  won't 
live  without  you.     I'll — I  don't  know  what  I'll  do. 

Ann.  Probably  continue  your  sublime  and  royal 
life  with  kings  and  queens  and  their  suits  including 
knaves,  and  try  to  drown  your  sorrows  in  whiskey. 

Fr.  I  know  I  deserve  that  remark,  but  if  you 
would  only  promise  to  marry  me,  I'd  never  gamble 
again  and  I'd  never  drink  another  drop.  I  could 
then  refrain,  I  swear  it,  but  I  can't  without  your 
help,  without  your  love. 

Ann.     You  have  had  my  help.  You  have  my  love. 

Fr.  Yes,  your  love  without  your  confidence. 
Your  love  without  esteem.  Your  love  as  a  duty. 
You  don't  honor  me.  You  don't  cherish  me.  You 
won't  marry  me.  Ann,  promise  that  if  I  don't 
gamble  and  don't  drink  for  one  whole  year,  you 
will  then  agree  to  become  my  wife. 

Ann.  Don't  be  foolish.  I  have  not  changed  my 
mind  about  that.  Before  I  forget — and  a — to  a — 
change  the  subject,  Lord  Nowit  has  asked  me  to 
accompany  him  to  the  play  next  Thursday.  He 
wants  to  know  if  you  will  take  Germain,  in  which 
event  he  will  get  four  seats  together.    Will  you  go? 

Fr.  No,  unless  he  takes  Germain,  or  any  one 
else  he  sees  fit,  and  you  go  with  me. 

Ann.  I  am  going  with  Lord  Nowit,  so  you  will 
not  join  us? 

Fr.  No,  I  will  not  join  you.  You  know  things 
are  commencing  to  dawn  on  me.  "There  is  no 
disguise  which  can  long  feign  love  where  love  does 
not  exist,  nor  long  conceal  love  where  it  does  exist." 


ACT  I  II 

You're  in  love  with  that  Engh'shman.  That's  it! 
That's  the  reason  you  treat  me  as  you  do.  You're 
in  love  with  his  highness  or  else  you  want  to  marrv 
a  title. 

Ann.  I  thank  you  for  the  information.  I  might 
never  have  known  of  it  but  for  your  kindness. 
And  pray,  good  sir,  does  he  love  me?  That  is,  do 
you  think  he  loves  me? 

Fr.  You  know  he  does.  Candy,  flowers,  gifts 
by  the  dozen  to  j^ou  and  your  charitable  organiza- 
tions, invitations  to  the  theatre,  and  his  every  action 
shows  it.  Fools  and  children  cannot  conceal  the 
truth,  but  I  don't  accuse  him  of  being  a  child. 

Ann.  Then  you  think  he  loves  me;  and  is  that 
why  you  consider  him  a  fool  ? 

Fr.  You  know  better  than  that,  but  all  asses 
haven't  long  ears,  and  if  ever  there  was  a  blue- 
blooded,  short-eared  one.  he's  it.  He  makes  a  fine 
appearance,  but  he  cannot  look,  nor  stand,  nor  walk, 
nor  talk  like  a  man  of  sense. 

Ann.  I  suppose  that's  a  trade-last.  I  will  tell 
him  about  it. 

Fr.  Tell  him.  I  would  like  to  have  you  do  it 
if  I  thought  he  would  see  the  point,  but  you  would 
be  wasting  your  breath.  Honestly,  I  would  like 
nothing  better  than  to  buy  his  Lordship  for  what 
he  is  worth  as  a  man  and  sell  him  for  what  he  thinks 
he  is  worth.  His  percentage  of  manhood  is  about 
twenty-three  and  in  his  own  mind  he's  just  a  trifle 
better  than  perfect. 

Ann.  There  are  others  on  whom  the  margin 
would  be  quite  high. 

Fr.     Thanks,  if  you  mean  that  for  me. 

Ann.     You  are  welcome,  if  you  see  fit  to  apply 


12  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

it.  Our  standard  of  manhood  is  probably  not  the 
same.  Lord  Nowit  may  not  be  very  bright  nor 
highly  educated,  nor  good  looking,  nor  interesting, 
but  he  has  qualities  of  the  heart  that  more  than 
make  up  for  what  he  may  lack  in  other  respects. 
His  generosity  has  no  bounds. 

Fr.  You  are  right  about  his  generosity.  I  actual- 
ly do  believe  that  his  heart  is  as  thick  as  his  head, 
and  that's  saying  much. 

Ann.  Conceding  that  he  is  rather  dull,  j^ou 
ought  not  jest  at  those  who  are  simple,  but  rather 
remember  how  much  you  are  bound  to  God  who 
has  made  you  so  wise. 

Fr.  You  are  very  sarcastic  in  the  defense  of  his 
Lordship.  I  need  no  better  evidence  that  you  love 
him. 

Ann.  They  do  not  love  that  do  not  show  their 
love. 

Fr.  I  thought  I  never  would  be  jealous  of  any 
one,  but  your  actions  are  making  m.e  insanely  jeal- 
ous.   That  shows  how  much  I  love  you. 

Ann.  Jealousy  extinguishes  love.  In  jealousy 
there  is  nothing  but  self  love. 

Fr.     You'll  drive  me  to  madness. 

Ann.  Love  may  be  madness,  but  madness  is  not 
always  love. 

Fr.  This  is  no  jesting  matter.  You'll  never 
m.arry  that  Englishman  while  I  am  alive. 

Ann.     Never  is  a  very,  very  long  time. 

Fr.  If  you  refuse  me,  my  blood  will  be  upon 
your  head.     I  cannot  live  without  you. 

Ann.  Well,  self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of 
nature.  I  cannot  live  with  you.  Besides,  you  are 
not  trustworthy. 


ACT  I  13 

Fr.     Why  do  you  say  that? 

Ann.  Last  year  you  vowed  if  I  refused  you, 
you'd  pine  away  and  die,  and  now  see  how  healthy 
you  look. 

{Enter  Maid.) 

Maid.     Lord  Nowit. 

Ann   to   maid.     Show   him   in.      (Exit   maid.) 

Ann  to  Fr.  Lord  Nowit  is  going  with  me  to  the 
hospital.  Tell  him  I'll  be  down  right  away.  And 
I'll  promise  you  not  to  marry  him  until  I've  had 
another  talk  with  you,  when  you  are  in  a  better 
humor. 

(Exit   Ann.) 

Fr.  There  is  not  so  agonizing  a  feeling  in  the 
whole  catalog  of  human  suffering  as  the  conviction 
that  the  heart  of  the  being  whom  we  most  tenderly 
love  is  estranged  from  us. 

*'A  mighty  pain  to  love  it  is, 
And  'tis  a  pain  that  pain  to  miss. 
But  of  all  pains  the  greatest  pain. 
It  is  to  love  and  love  in  vain." 

(Enter  Lord  N.) 

Lord  N.  Ah!  Frank.  And  how  do  you  feel 
to-day,  dear  boy? 

Fr.     I  look  well,  thank  you,  if  you  are  interested. 

Lord  N.  That's  good,  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,  yovi 
know.  Oh,  I  was  told  Miss  Ann  was  in  the  room. 
I  don't  see  her.  She's  not  in  here,  is  she?  Really, 
she's  not,  is  she? 

Fr.  You  will  certainly  believe  your  eye  in  pref- 
erence to  anything  I  might  say,  won't  you?  For 
you  have  such  a  fine  eye. 

Lord  N.  Thank  you,  of  course.  And  you  noticed 
it  irpmediately.     I  had  a  gold  rim  put  around  the 


14  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

glass,  you  know,  because  it  gives  such  a  dignified 
appearance.     It's  wonderful,  isn't  it? 

Fr.  Yes,  hardly  believable.  Marvelous,  indeed. 
If  I  am  not  asking  a  state  secret,  why  do  all  in 
your  set  wear  one  such  glass? 

Lord  N.  Well,  it's  a  custom,  you  know.  And 
it's  a  sign,  you  know,  that  one  belongs  to  the  best 
of  English  society, — to  English  aristocracy.  If  one 
were  indifferent  to  such  matters,  hov/  could  the 
people  tell  that  he  belonged  to  the  best  society? 

Fr.  Give  it  up,  unless  you  just  put  a  tag  on  to 
that  effect. 

Lord  N.  I  don't  think  that  a  good  suggestion; 
really  I  don't.  I  prefer  the  glass,  I  do.  I  am  sort 
of  nervous  to-dav.  I  feel  like  a  fool  to-dav,  really 
I  do. 

Fr.  But  your  thoughts  seem  calm  and  reason- 
able. 

Lord  N.  Thank  you,  ah,  thank  you.  So  kind 
of  you,  really  it  is.  By  the  way,  what  is  the  quickest 
way  to  get  to  the — hospital? 

Fr.     Start  without  a  second's  delay. 

Lord  N.  No,  you  don't  understand,  you  know. 
I  m.ean  what  is  the  quickest  way  to  get  there  by 
train  ? 

Fr.     Take  the  fast  one. 

Lord  N.  Oh,  of  course,  but  to  what  depot  do 
I  go? 

Fr.     Oh,  just  go  to — well,  to  the  S.  P.  Depot. 

Lord  N.  Thank  you.  Do  you  know  when  the 
last  train  goes  to  Sacramento? 

Fr.     You  should  live  so  long. 

Lord  N.     I  do  not  comprehend  you. 

Fr.     I  said  you  should  live  so  long. 


ACT  I  15 

Lord  N.  I  asked  when  the  last  train  goes  to 
Sacramento. 

Fr.     I  replied,  you  should  live  so  long. 

Lord  X.  I  understand  what  you  say,  but  I  don't 
understand  what  you  mean,  really. 

Fr.  You  wouldn't  get  a  joke  if  it  were  fired  at 
you  from  a  cannon. 

Lord  N.  Why,  that's  foolish,  you  know.  They 
don't  fire  jokes  from  guns,  do  they?  I  must  go  to 
Sacramento  to  attend  to  some  affairs  of  my  uncle's 
estate. 

Fr.  By  the  way.  I  heard  that  you  want  to  sell 
your  uncle's  automobile. 

Lord  N.  Yes,  I  would  like  very  much  to  do  so. 
I  am  very  anxious  to  sell  it. 

Fr.     What  price  are  you  asking  for  it? 

Lord  N.  Well,  really,  I  would  not  like  to  set 
any  price  on  the  car  to-day,  because  it  is  Sunday. 

Fr.  Well,  suppose  this  were  Monday,  what 
would  you  ask  for  the  car? 

Lord  N.  Oh,  if  this  were  Monday,  I  would  set 
a  price  of  Two  Thousand  Dollars  on  it. 

Fr.     Well,  if  this  were  Monday,  I  would  take  it. 

Lord  N.  Ver}'  good.  I  will  send  the  car 
around  in  the  morning.  I  never  transact  business 
on  Sunday. 

Fr.  Do  you  find  the  business  of  the  estate  oner- 
ous? 

Lord  K.  Oh,  exacting  in  the  extreme,  you  know. 
They  pester  me  so  that  at  times  I  almost  wish  my 
uncle  hadn't  died.  There  are  a  lot  of  blighters  who 
took  me  for  a  duffer,  and  tried  to  over-reach  me  in 
some  business  matters.  But  they  found  that  I 
wasn't  such  a  bounder  as  they  took  me  for.     I  got 


i6  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

the  better  of  them,  even  though  they  were  a  lot  of 
sharpers.     They  found  that  I  know  a  few  things. 

Fr.  ^  Yes,  I  guess  about  as  few  as  anybody.  But 
I  imagine  you  are  getting  rather  conceited  over  it. 

Lord  N.  Oh,  nothing  of  the  sort.  I  know  I 
am  not  a  bit  conceited.  You  know,  I  don't  think 
I  am  half  as  smart  as  I  really  am. 

Fr.  But  all  extremely  bright  men  are  conceited, 
anyway. 

Lord  N.     Oh,  I  don't  think  so.     I'm  not. 

(Enter  Ann.) 

Ann.  How  do  you  do.  Lord  Nowit?  You 
gentlemen  seem  to  have  struck  up  quite  a  friendship. 
I  am  delighted,  indeed. 

Lord  N.  I  hope  I  see  you  well.  I  expected  to 
find  you  alone,  from  what  the  servant  said. 

Ann.  I  appreciate  very  much  the  beautiful  flow- 
ers you  sent  yesterday  and  the  immense  box  of 
candy  sent  to-day.  In  the  words  of  the  poet,  permit 
me  to  say: 

"Thanks  for  the  sweets,  my  sweeter  friend, 
Accept  my  sweetest  thanks." 

Lord  N.  For  such  thanks,  I  will  send  a  box 
ever>^  day. 

Ann.  No,  please  don't  send  me  any  more  candy, 
or  flowers,  or  presents.  I  can't  accept  them.  I—^I 
don't  like  presents. 

Lord  N.  To-morrow  you  will  get  some  crawfish 
by  express.     I  w^'red  for  them  yesterday. 

Ann.     Some  what? 

Lord  N.     Crawfish,   or  crayfish. 

Ann.  I  know  that  I  have  heard  of  them,  but  1 
don't  remember  what  they  are  like. 

Lord  N.     They  are  delicious  to  eat,  vou  know. 


ACT  I  17 

They  are  little  red  beasts  that  walk  backward. 

Ann.     I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  any. 

Fr.  You  should  remember  them  by  the  descrip- 
tion Lord  Nowit  just  gave.  It's  so  accurate  in  all 
but  three  particulars.  First,  they  are  not  red ; 
second  they  are  not  beasts;  and  third,  they  do  not 
\\alk  backward.  I  showed  you  some  in  a  market 
when   we   were   in    Portland. 

Lord  y.  I  thank  you,  I  am  sure,  for  the  slight 
correction.  You  know  a  crawfish  always  reminded 
me  of  a  lobster. 

Fr.  Now  that  you  mention  it,  I  think  in  the 
future  a  crawfish  will  always  remind  me  of  a  lobster. 

Lord  N.  Then  it  will  be  a  case  of  great  minds 
running  in  the  same  channel. 

Fr.     Yes,   unless  we   think  of  different  lobsters. 

Ann.  I  think  we  had  better  be  going  to  the  hos- 
pital. I  will  accept  the  crawfish,  but  remember, 
nothing  more. 

Lord  N.  Aw,  let's  not  quarrel  about  the  future 
now,  don't  you  know.  {To  Fr.)  Tell  me,  are 
crawfish  healthy? 

Fr.     I  never  heard  any  complain. 

Lord  N.  Well,  well,  then  they  must  be  as 
wholesome  as  o^'sters.     Good-bye,  dear  boy. 

Fr.  Good-bye,  dear  man.  Good-bye  to  you, 
dear  girl.  Don't  forget  the  promise  you  just  made 
me. 

Ann.  A  bad  promise  might  better  be  broken  than 
kept.  But,  I  won't  break  mine.  You'll  not  have 
cause  to  sue  me  for  breach  of  promise.  Tell  George 
I've  gone  to  the  hospital  and  will  be  back  at  4.30. 
(To  Lord  X.)  May  I  help  you  on  with  your 
overcoat  ? 


i8  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Lord  N.  No,  thanks.  It's  silk  lined  and  goes 
on  easy. 

(Exit  Ann  and  Lord  N.) 

Fr.  That  girl  seems  to  have  a  wonderful  in- 
fluence over  me.  Owing  to  her  sentiments,  liquor, 
hunting  and  cards  have  lost  half  of  their  charm  for 
me.  She  has  brought  to  the  surface  conscientious 
scruples  I  never  thought  were  in  me.  But  I  seem 
to  be  possessed  of  an  ample  supply,  judging  from 
the  worry  they  are  causing  me. 

*'Oh,   conscience,   thou   tremendous  power,   that 
dost  inhabit  us  without  our  leave. 
Art  within  ourselves  another  self,  a  master  self. 
Yes,  a  master  self  that  loves  to  domineer  and 
frankly  treat  the  monarch  as  the  slave." 

Well  she  hasn't  tabooed  smoking.  I  think  I'll 
light  my  pipe.  The  more  I  fume,  the  less  I  seem 
to  fret. 

(Curtain  for  one  minute  to  denote  lapse  of  two 
hours.     Fr.  still  alone  and  reading.) 

(Enter  Lucille  and   Geo.) 

Geo.    Hello,  Doctor. 

Fr.  Hello,  George.  Glad  to  see  you.  Ann 
asked  me  to  say  that  she  has  gone  to  the  hospital 
and  will  be  back  at  4:30.  And  how  is  Lucille? 
What  have  you  been  doing  to-day?  ( Takes  Lucille 
in  arms  and  kisses  her.) 

Luc.     Played  with  my  dolly  and  my  teddy  bear. 

Fr.     And  which  do  j'ou  like  better? 

Luc.  I  love  my  teddy  bear  the  best,  but  please 
don't  tell  my  dolly.  She's  very  beautiful,  but  she's 
got  no  brains. 

Fr.  You  know  that  if  you  don't  love  vour  dolly 
as  much  as  your  teddy  bear,  I  am  afraid  you  love 


ACT  I  19 

your  teddy  bear  more  than  me.     Do  you? 

Luc.  No,  I  don't.  Oh,  I  just  love  you  and  love 
you  and  love  you. 

Fr.     I   think  you're  just  fooling  me. 

Luc.     No,  I'm  not. 

Fr.     Well,  why  do  you  love  me? 

Luc.     Because  you  is  you. 

Fr.  That's  surely  a  good  reason  for  a  young 
lady.     And  how  much  do  you  love  me? 

Luc.  O,  way  up  to  the  sky  and  more  than  that. 
Doctor,  is  the  moon  a  hole  in  the  sky  for  God  to 
look  through? 

Fr.     No,  dear,  its—  ,   ^^    ^    x.  w    7 

Luc.     Well,  are  the  stars  the  moon  s  little  babies  t 

Fr.     No—  ^  .      ,    , 

Luc.     God's  making  another  moon,  aint  he; 

Fr.     Yes,  we  will  soon  have  a  full  moon. 

Luc.     But,  Doctor,  why  don't  he  make  a  hot  one  ? 

Fr.     A  what  ? 

Luc.     A  hot  one. 

Fr.     I  don't  understand  what  you  mean. 

Luc.  I  would  make  one  like  the  sun,  a  hot  one. 
Can't  we  telephone  God  to  do  it? 

Fr.     No  one  can  telephone  to  him. 

Luc.     Haven't  you  got  his  picture? 
*    Fr.     No,  dearest,  he  doesn't  let  any  one  see  him, 
but  he  sees  and  hears  everyone  and  regulates  every- 
thing.    He  makes  the  trees  and  fruit  grow.     He 
makes  the  water  flow.     He  makes  the  wind  blow. 

Luc      Does  God  make  the  wind  blow? 
Fr.     Yes.  ,     ^ 

Luc.     Does  it  blow  only  when  he^  breaves  t 
Fr.     Oh,  no.     It  is  not  his  breathing. 


20  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Luc.  Well,  where  does  the  wind  go  when  it 
quits  blowing? 

Fr.  Where  does  the  light  go  when  we  press  the 
button  ? 

Luc.     It  goes  out. 

Fr.  That's  right,  it  does  go  out.  Now,  I  didn't 
think  of  that.  Well,  the  wind  doesn't  go  out  but 
it 

Luc.     Did  God  make  me? 

Fr.     Yes,  certainly. 

Luc.  Well,  he  just  made  me  a  tiny  little  bit  of 
a  thing  and  I  growed  the  rest  myself,  didn't  L 

Fr.     Yes. 

Luc.     Can  God  do  anything? 

Fr.     Why,   certainly. 

Luc.  Oh,  I  wish  he  would  make  me  a  little 
three-year-old  sister  in  a  minute. 

Fr.  Here,  how  will  this  do  instead?  {Gives 
fan.) 

Luc.  Oh,  isn't  that  beautiful!  See  what  Dr. 
Mason  gave  me  for  a  present.  It's  to  brush  the 
warm  off  with,  aint  it,  doctor? 

Geo.  Well,  well,  Lucille,  I  am  surprised  at  you. 
You  didn't  thank  the  doctor  for  it. 

Luc.  Y-e-s  I  did,  but  I  didn't  tell  him  so.  Doc- 
tor I  am  awful  much  obliged. 

Fr.  Well,  aren't  you  going  to  kiss  me  for  it? 
{Luc.  kisses  Dr.) 

Fr.  I  don't  think  you  like  to  kiss  me  any  more, 
do  you  Lucille  ? 

Luc.     No. 

Fr.     You   don't? 

Luc.     No. 

Fr.     Why? 


ACT  I  21 

Luc.     Your   kisses   smell   too   smoky.     When    I 
kiss  you  I  wish  I  was  deaf  and  dumb  in  my  nose. 

{Coughs.)  , 

Fr.     Don't  cough,  dear.  It's  bad  for  your  throat. 

Luc.  I'm  not  coughing  (coughs.)  It's  cough- 
ing me. 

Fr.     Let  me  see  your  tongue. 

Luc.      {Shoivs  tongue.) 

Fr.     Let  me  see  more  of  it.     Put  your  tongue 

way  out. 

Luc.     I  can't.     It's  fastened  at  one  end. 

Fr  Well,  hold  still,  you  muggins,  just  one 
minute.  Oh,  that  looks  fine.  You  just  caught  a 
little  cold  and  you  will  be  all  right  to-morrow.  Do 
you  remember  how  quickly  I  helped  you  last  month 
when  you  had  that  splinter?     How  did  it  happen.^ 

I  forget.  T     T     T 

Luc.  {Embarrassed.)  Why,— I— I— I  was  sit- 
ting on  the  fence  and— and  I— I  moved. 

Fr      Oh,  ves,   I   remember  now. 

Luc.     That  didn't  kill  me,  did  it  Doctor? 

Fr.     Certainly  not. 

Luc.  Well,  if  it  did,  how  would  I  know  that  1 
was  dead  ? 

Fr.     God  would  tell  you,  dear. 

Luc.     Is  Lord  Nowit  killed? 

Fr.     Is  Lord  Nowit  killed?    ^Vhy  certainly  not 

Luc.  Doctor  have  you  got  some  medicine  with 
you? 

Fr.     No,  why?  . 

Luc.     Won't  you  give  Lord  Nowit  some,  so  ne 

won't  die?  .    ,      .  ,       t   •     .  ^»* 

Fr  Why  Lord  Nowit  isn't  sick.  I  just  met 
him.  *  What  makes  you  think  that  he  will  die? 


22  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Luc.  Yes,  he  will,  if  you  don't  give  him  medi- 
cine.    I  know  he  will. 

Fr.  Lucille,  you  mustn't  say  that.  It's  naughty, 
and  I  don't  understand  why  you  say  it. 

Luc.     He  said  so;  then  he's  the  naughty  one. 

Fr.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Lord  Nowit  said 
he  would  die? 

Luc.     Um  hum. 

Fr.     When? 

Luc.     Yesterday. 

Fr.     To  you? 

Luc.     No. 

Fr.  To  whom  did  he  say  it?  I  don't  think  you 
understood  him. 

Luc.  Yes,  I  did.  He  told  Aunt  Ann  that  if 
she  wouldn't  marry  him,  it  would  kill  him,  and  she 
said  she  wouldn't,  and  he  just  begged  and  begged ; 
so  please  give  me  some  medicine  for  him. 

Geo.     You  little  wretch,  where  were  you? 

Luc.     In  the  closet. 

Geo.     Well,  what  were  you  doing  there? 

Luc.  Dolly  don't  like  to  sleep  in  the  light,  so 
I  put  her  in  the  closet  and  slept  with  her. 

Geo.  Frank,  I  think  that  you  had  better  leave 
some  medicine  for  Lord  Nowit. 

Luc.     Why  do  you  call  doctor — Frank? 

Geo.  Because  that's  his  name,  and — I've  known 
him  for  a  long  time. 

Luc.  Will  you  get  some  medicine  for  him, 
Frank  ? 

Geo.     Why  do  you  call  him  Frank? 

Luc.     Well,  aint  I  known  him  for  a  long  time? 

Fr.  That's  certainly  one  on  me.  We'll  see  that 
Lord  Nowit  gets  his  medicine,  but  I  must  be  hurry- 


ACT  I  23 

ing  along.  I  have  to  be  at  the  maternity  hospital 
soon. 

Luc.  Aint  tliat  where  they  have  tiny  little 
babies? 

Fr.     Yes. 

Luc.  O,  will  they  make  you  stay  there  and  have 
a  baby? 

Fr.  You're  the  dearest  muggins  I  ever  met,  and 
I  love  you.  Oh,  so  much,  {hugs  her.)  I  am  sorry 
that  I  gave  you  that  smoky  kiss,  and  I'll  just  take  it 
back.     There,  that's  better,  isn't  it? 

Luc.  I  don't  know.  It  smells  just  the  same 
as  when  you  gave  it  to  me. 

Fr.  Well,  you  believe  me  when  I  say  I  love 
you,  don't  you? 

Luc.     Yes,  of  course   I  do. 

Fr.  Even-one  loves  you.  I  wonder  why  it  is. 
Do  vou  know? 

Luc.     No. 

Fr.     Don't  you  know? 

Luc.     I  guess  it's  because  I  love  ever>'body. 

Fr.     That's  it. 

Geo.  Yes,  that's  it,  that's  it.  Love  everyone, 
love  ever\'one  always,  and  everyone  will  always  love 
my  darling. 

Fr.  If  I  leave  you  for  a  whole  year,  you  won't 
forget  me,  will  you? 

Luc.     No.  where  are  you  going? 

Fr.     I  may  go  to  war  ii  we  have  one. 

Luc.  Oh,  I  remember  the  stories  you  told  me 
about  how  they  kill  men  in  war.  You  wouldn't 
kill  the  papa  of  a  little  girl  like  me,  would  you? 

Fr.     Of  course  not. 

(Exit  Fr.)      {Lucille  meditating.) 


24  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Geo.     What  are  you  thinking  about? 

Luc.     Oh,  I  was  thinking  of  old  times. 

Geo.  Of  old  times?  Tell  me,  what  were  you 
doing  so  long  ago  as  this  morning? 

Luc.  I  went  to  Sunday  school,  and  then  to  the 
farm  for  eggs  with  Aunt  Ann. 

Geo.     Did  you  get  any? 

Luc.     Yes,  a  big  basket  full. 

Geo.     Did  you  gather  them? 

Luc.     No. 

Geo.  Why?  Didn't  you  look  in  the  nests  for 
them? 

Luc.  Yes,  and  there  weren't  any  eggs  in  them. 
But  there  were  a  lot  of  hens  standing  around  doing 
nothing.  And  there  was  one  awful  pretty  hen  they 
called  the  game  rooster. 

Geo.  Well,  what  did  you  learn  at  Sunday 
School ? 

Luc.  They  learned  me  about  the  ten  command- 
ments. 

Geo.     Are  you  sure  there  were  ten  of  them? 

Luc.  Yes,  I  know  there  was.  And  they  said 
not  to  break  them. 

Geo.  Suppose  you  did  break  one.  What  would 
happen  ? 

Luc.     Then  there'd  be  only  nine  left,  I  guess. 

Geo.  Do  you  remember  what  we  read  last 
night? 

Luc.     Yes,  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin. 

Geo.  Which  do  you  like  better,  hearing  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin  read,  or  listening  to  your  teacher  tell 
of  the  ten  commandments? 

Luc.  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.  But  I  forget  Topsy's 
last  name.     What  was  it? 


ACT  I  25 

Geo.     Topsy  had  no  last  name,  dear. 

Luc.  Yes  she  has.  I  remember  hearing  it,  a 
long  time  ago. 

Geo.     Well,   what   was   it? 

Luc.  I  forgot — Oh,  I  remember  now.  It  was 
Topsy  Turv>\  If  I  get  the  book  will  you  read  some 
more  to  me  now? 

Geo.  Not  until  later.  We  will  be  having  din- 
ner soon,  and  you  had  better  put  your  dolly  to  bed 
before  dinner. 

{Maid  announces  Ruth  and  Mother.) 

Luc.     See  where  my  knee  is  blue. 

Geo.     Does  it  hurt  much? 

Luc.     No. 

Geo.     How  did  you  get  that? 

Luc.     I    fell   out   of   bed   last   night. 

Geo.     How  did  that  happen? 

Luc.     I  guess  I  slept  too  near  where  I  got  in. 

Geo.  That's  probably  true.  But  the  blue  spot 
will  be  gone  by  to-morrow,  and  I  think  you  had 
better  run  along.      {Exit  Luc.) 

Geo.  "What  gift  has  Providence  bestowed  upon 
man  that  is  so  dear  to  him  as  children? 

{Enter  Ruth  and  mother.) 

{Geo.  greets  mother  and  Ruth,  shaking  hands 
zvith  both  at  same  time,  holding  Ruth's  hand  ivith 
his  left  for  few  seconds.) 

Geo.  I  am  sorr}-  Ann  was  not  here  to  welcome 
you.  She  expected  to  be,  but  she  was  unquestionably 
detained  at  the  hospital.  She  left  word  that  she 
would  be  back  by  4:30,  and  she  will  no  doubt  re- 
turn in  a  few^  minutes. 

Mrs.  W .  You  need  not  apologize.  I  am  rather 
glad  we  found  you  alone.     I  ought  rather  to  apolo- 


26  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

gize  to  you  for  talking  business  when  calling  foi 
dinner,  but  It  Is  so  hard  to  get  an  opportunity  at 
your  office.  I  want  to  ask  your  advice  about  an  offer 
I  have  had  for  my  bank  stock.     Do  you  mind? 

Geo.  Certainly  not.  I  regard  It  as  a  compll- 
n^ent  that  you  value  my  opinion  on  such  matters. 
I  am  always  at  your  service,  and  you  must  not 
hesitate  to  command  me  at  any  time. 

Mrs.  W .  I  never  have  and  am  sure  I  never  will. 
What  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about  Is  this.  Jasper 
has  been  wanting  to  buy  my  bank  stock,  and  I  re- 
fused to  sell.  He  has  been  offering  more  and  more, 
until  yesterday  he  offered  three  times  the  par  value 
of  It.  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  sell  It  ?  One  reason 
why  I  was  so  anxious  to  ask  you  was  that  he  par- 
ticularly desired  me  not  to  say  anything  to  you 
about  It. 

Geo.  My  answer  Is,  yes  and  no.  Yes  for  your 
sake;  no  for  mine.  Frankly,  the  stock  Is  not  worth 
anywhere  near  the  price  he  has  offered.  If  you  can 
get  that  for  It,  you  will  be  making  a  most  excellent 
sale.  You  understand  that  I  own  forty-five  per 
cent  of  the  bank  stock.  Jasper  owns  forty  per 
cent.  You  have  five  per  cent,  and  Smith  and 
Brown  have  the  remainder.  Jasper  Is  apparently 
trying  to  get  control  of  the  bank,  and  for  that  reason 
has  offered  you  such  a  high  price  for  your  stock, 
which  would  make  his  holdings  equal  to  mine. 
Rather  than  have  you  sell  It  to  Jasper,  I  will  give 
you  the  same  amount  for  It  that  he  has  offered  you. 

Ruth.  If  he  had  control,  he  could  put  you  out 
of  the  presidency,  couldn't  he,  George? 

Geo.     He  could,  and  doubtless  would. 

Ruth.     Well,  mama,  I  wouldn't  sell  Jasper  the 


ACT  I  27 

stock  at  any  price. 

Geo.  No,  your  mother  ought  to  sell.  It  would 
be  bad  business  for  her  not  to  sell  at  that  figure. 

Mrs.  W .  Well,  thank  God  I  know  true  condi- 
tions. I  wouldn't  let  Jasper  have  that  stock  if  he 
doubled  his  ofEer.  And  I  would  not  have  you  buy 
it  for  more  than  it  is  worth.  You  just  continue  to 
vote  it  in  the  future  as  you  have  in  the  past,  and  I 
suppose  you  won't  elect  Mr.  Jasper  president  very 
soon. 

Geo.  Not  very  soon.  However,  I  cannot  per- 
mit you  to  make  such  a  sacrifice  for  me.  You  really 
ought  to  sell  at  that  price. 

Mrs.  W .  But  I  won't  sell,  especially  to  a  fawn- 
ing and  flattering  hypocrite  like  Jasper,  who  would 
do  anything  for  his  own  advantage. 

Geo.  Well,  we  will  discuss  it  further  at  another 
time. 

Ruth.  You're  the  dearest  mother  that  ever  lived. 
I'll  never  forget  this  hour.  It's  one  of  the  happiest 
of  my  whole  life.  Wouldn't  you  be  proud  of  such 
a  mother? 

Geo.     I  certainly  would. 

Mrs.  W .  You  cannot  be  more  proud  of  me  than 
I  am  of  you. 

Ruth.  You'll  be  thinking  this  a  mutual  admira- 
tion society. 

Geo.  If  I  were  to  express  my  sentiments,  it 
might  be  more  than   a  mutual  admiration  society. 

Ruth.      (Aside.)     Why  don't  you? 

(Maid  announces  J  as.) 

Mrs.  W.     Talk  of  the  angel,  he's  sure  to  appear. 

Geo.     The   devil,   you  say? 

Mrs.   W .     I  guess  you  are  right.     Pardon   the 


28  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

slip  of  my  tongue. 

Geo.  Coming:  at  this  time.  I  know  Jasper  will 
expect  to  remain  for  dinner.     He  always  does. 

Mrs.  W.  I  suppose  Ann  is  the  attraction.  I 
know  she  is  quite  a  favorite  of  his. 

Geo.  Yes,  but  he  is  no  favorite  of  Ann's,  and 
unless  I  am  badly  mistaken,  she  has  let  him  know 
it.  She  has  such  a  refreshing  way  of  saying  what 
she  thinks.  But  I  try  to  be  tactful,  and  know^  that 
I  make  a  hypocrite  of  myself  when  I  invite  him  to 
remain  for  dinner  under  conditions  such  as  these, 
when  distance  would  make  him  so  much  more  en- 
chanting to  us  all. 

Ruth.  If  anything  would  make  him  enchanting, 
it  would  be  distance,  and  plenty  of  it. 

]\lrs.  IV.  If  that  makes  you  a  hypocrite,  then  we 
are  all  hypocrites  who  have  asked  him  to  dinner. 

{Enter  Jas.  apparently  surprised  to  see  Mrs.  TV. 
and  Ruth.     Greets  all.) 

Ruth.       You  seem  surprised  to  see  us  here. 

Jas.     I  am  somewhat,  and  yet,  delighted. 

Ruth.  But  just  a  little  more  surprised  than  de- 
lighted ? 

Jas.  No.  Surprised  as  I  may  have  seemed,  I  am. 
more  delighted  than  surprised. 

Ruth.  That  is  surely  some  delight,  and  I  thank 
you  for  the  compliment,  even  though  it  was  invited. 

Mrs.  IV.  You  conceited  .rrirl.  You  thank  him 
as  if  the  compliment  were  all  yours.  I  claim  half 
of  it,  and  join  in  the  appreciation,  ?s  I  Icnov.-  that 
Jasper  would  not  be  more  than  half  r,5  deliifnted 
if  I  were  not  along. 

Jas.  That  is  true.  You  must  be  a  mind  reader. 
And  I  am  delighted  that  you  are  delighted  with  my 


ACT  I  29 

delight. 

Ruth.  That  sounds  well.  And  we  appreciate 
your  appreciation  of  our  appreciation. 

Geo.  Help!  Help!  We've  had  enough  of  that. 
Call  it  a  draw. 

Jos.  Agreed.  By  the  way,  George,  knowing  that 
I  am  welcome,  I  thought  I  would  honor  you  with 
my  company  for  dinner. 

Geo.  Rest  assured  that  you  are  as  welcome  as 
usual. 

Jas.  Thanks  old  man.  I  do  certainly  feel  at 
home  here.  And  now  that  I  have  so  successfully 
in\ated  myself,  would  it  be  presuming  too  far  for 
me  in  turn  to  ask  3'ou,  Mrs.  Williams,  and  you, 
Ruth,  to  join  us?  I  am  positive  that  George  will 
second  the  invitation,  won't  you? 

Geo.     I  can't  do  it. 

Jas.     What?     You  are  joking,  I  know. 

Geo.     No,  I  mean  it. 

Jas.  You  put  me  in  an  awkward  predicament. 
May  I  ask  the  reason? 

Geo.     Certainly. 

Jas.     Well,  what  is  it? 

Geo.  I  can't  second  your  invitation,  having  al- 
ready previously  invited  them. 

Jas.  The  joke  is  on  m.e.  But  I'll  get  even  with 
you  some  day. 

(Enter  Fr.     Greets  all.) 

Fr.     I  am  late.     I  hope  I  haven't  delayed  dinner. 

Geo.  No,  we  are  waiting  for  Ann  and  Lord 
Nowit. 

Fr.     What?      Haven't   they   returned? 

Geo.  We  have  been  expecting  them  some  little 
time. 


30  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Jas.  I  didn't  realize  when  I  invited  myself  that 
I  was  intruding  on  a  dinner  party. 

Geo.  Let  me  do  the  worrying  about  your  intru- 
sion.    You  couldn't  have  chosen  better  company. 

{Enter  Ann  and  Lord  Noivit.     Greet  all.) 

Ann,  (To  Mrs.  W.  and  Ruth.)  You  must 
pardon  me  for  not  being  here  to  receive  you.  I  hope 
that  we  have  not  kept  you  waiting  long.  A  tire  on 
our  car  was  punctured. 

Lord  N'  And,  you  know,  one  of  those  quick  de- 
tachable tires  couldn't  be  detached  for  over  an  hour. 

Mrs.  W.  No  apology  is  necessary,  my  dear.  As 
misery  loves  company,  it  is  not  amiss  to  say  that  we 
all  have  had  similar  experiences. 

Fr.  (To  Ann.)  Did  Lord  Nowit  recite  his 
speech  to  you  while  you  were  waiting? 

Ann.     No.     What  speech? 

Fr.  The  one  he  delivered  at  the  Cricket  Club 
Banquet  last  night.  I  stopped  at  the  Club  on  my 
way   here,   and   all   the   boys  are   talking  about   it. 

Lord  N.  Oh,  were  they,  indeed?  What  did 
they  say? 

Fr.  Jones  said  he  liked  the  fire  you  put  in  your 
remarks.  Smith  thought  it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  put  your  remarks  in  the  fire.  Brown 
commented  particularly  on  the  brilliant  outburst  of 
silence  between  paragraphs.  All  the  boys  seemed 
to  enjoy  them.  Ponsonby  said  it  was  sound  from  be- 
ginning to  end.  Dudley  said  it  averaged  well,  in 
that  it  made  up  in  length  what  it  lacked  in  depth. 
Bixby  expressed  the  hope  that  at  the  next  banquet 
you   would    recite   on    Mount    Shasta. 

Lord  N.  That  would  indeed  be  a  lofty  subject. 
But  why  did  he  suggest  that? 


ACT  I  31 

Fr.  He  regarded  it  more  as  an  object,  and  sug- 
gested it  because  it  was  so  lofty  and  so  far  away. 

Lord  N.  Such  remarks  are  very  gratifying, 
really. 

{Maid  announces   dinner). 

Jas.  It  must  have  been  an  impromptu  speech, 
Lord  Nowit. 

Lord  \ .  It  was.  I  had  only  one  week  of  prep- 
aration. But.  really,  you  know.  I  can't  take  all  the 
credit.  Miss  Ann  helped  me  materially,  very  ma- 
terially, indeed.     And  even  more  than  that. 

{Jas.,  Mrs.  W.,  Ruth,  Fr.,  Ann,  and  Geo. 
laugh.) 

Geo.  Mrs.  Williams,  will  you  lead  the  way 
with  me.  Jas.  will  escort  you.  Ruth.  Lord  Nowit 
is  generous  in  sharing  those  tributes  with  you.  Ann. 
I  hope  they  are  merited.  Suppose  you  reciprocate 
by  going  in  to  dinner  with  him ;  and  Frank,  you 
chaperon  them. 

Ann.     I   don't   deserve  all   this. 

Lord  X.  Yes,  you  do.  You're  just  as  smart  as 
I   am. 

Lord  .V.  {To  Jas.)  You  did  not  know  that  I 
could  make  a  speech,  did  you. 

Jas.     No,   can   you? 

{Curtain) 


ACT  II 

{Same  scene  as  Act  I.     Three  months  later.) 
(George  Alone.) 

Geo.     "Oh,  Why  should  the  spirit  of  mortal  be 

proud  ? 
Life  a  swift  fleeting  meteor,  a  fast-flying 

cloud, 
A  flash  of   the  lightning,   a  break  of  the 

wave, 
Man   passes   from   life   to   his  rest  in   the 

grave." 

The  words  of  that  poem  seem  to  be  echoing  in 
my  ears  so  much  of  late.  What  a  sudden  change. 
A  quake  of  the  earth  and  I  passed  from  great  wealth 
to  poverty.  My  property  was  destroyed,  my  busi- 
ness ruined,  and  our  bank  is  gone,  though  the  de- 
positors were  paid  in  full.  In  ruins  are  the  three 
buildings  of  which  we  were  so  proud,  once  tower- 
ing edifices,  now  ashes.  Yes,  my  entire  fortune  is 
gone — even  this  home — nothing  left  but  my  stock  in 
a  bank  with  no  assets,  but  with  a  good  name.  Ann 
has  $25,000.00  in  bonds  and  I  have  a  moral  obliga- 
tion to  pay  half  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
Over  five  hundred  poor  people  confided  their  entire 
savings  to  the  Building  and  Trust  Company.  Its 
assets  are  destroyed  and  these  poor  people,  whose 
loss  is  due  to  their  faith  in  our  management,  must 
be  paid,  if  it  requires  the  use  of  Ann's  last  cent.  She 
32 


ACT  II  33 

insists  upon  it,  and  has  even  convinced  me  that  it 
is  my  dut}-  to  permit  her  the  privilege  of  using  the 
last  vestige  of  her  fortune  for  this  purpose.  Such  a 
girl.  Excelled  by  none,  but  equalled  by  one,  Ruth. 
Fortunate  indeed  am  I  to  have  the  love  of  two  such 
beings,  though  all  else  is  gone.  Little  did  I  ever 
dream  that  I  would  lose  my  fortune,  and  less,  that 
having  lost  all,  it  would  worr\^  me  so  little. 

I  would  have  no  cause  for  worry  if  I  could  only 
make  Jasper  see  that  he  ought  to  do  his  share.  He 
should  be  here  now.  The  scrub  is  half  an  hour 
late.  Before  the  earthquake.  I  could  give  him  credit 
for  one  thing, — punctuality.  Since  my  reverses,  he 
seems  habitually  to  keep  me  waiting  without  com- 
punction. He  is  the  only  one  who  apparently  seeks 
to  make  me  feel  my  loss. 

J  as.  {Taps  lightly  and  rapidly  on  door,  enter- 
ing at  the  same  time  without  awaiting  invitation.) 

J  as.     How  are  you  ? 

Geo.  "Very  well,  thank  you.  Won't  you  have 
a  seat? 

J  as.  (Sitting.)  I  have  been  thinking  over  our 
last  conversation  and  might  just  as  well  say  at 
once  that  I  do  not  see  things  as  you  do.  We  are 
not  liable  for  the  loss  incurred  by  the  Trust  Com- 
pany, and  we  would  be  damned  fools  to  pay  those 
people  $100,000.00. 

Geo.  We  might  not  be  such  damned  fools  as  you 
think.  There  are  a  few  facts  for  which  you  are 
lesponsible.  which  contributed  m.aterially  to  our 
predicament. 

Jas.  The  earthquake  would  have  wiped  even^- 
thing  out  an}'way,  so  we  might  just  as  well  at- 
tribute it  to  the  earthquake.    Besides,  we  have  con- 


34  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

suited  several  of  the  best  lawyers,  and  they  all 
agree  that  there  is  no  legal  liability. 

Geo.     Who  do  you  mean  by  "we?" 

Jas.  Well,  then,  I  have  consulted  them — in  be- 
half of  the  company. 

Geo.  And  they  say  there  is  no  legal  liability? 
Did  you  ask  them  about  our  moral  liability? 

Jas.  You  are  lawyer  enough  to  know  there  is  no 
legal  liability.  If  there  were  a  moral  liability,  there 
would  be  a  legal  liability.  For  the  last  ten  years 
the  Legislatures  have  been  busy  turning  all  moral 
liabilities  into  legal  liabilities  and  even  in  some  in- 
stances creating  legal  liability  where  there  was  none 
morally.  I  am  not  going  to  pay  any  money  un- 
less the  law  says  I  must.  Let  the  other  fellow  do 
the  worrying. 

Geo.  A  man  of  integrity  will  never  listen  to  any 
reason  against  conscience ;  and  you  are  adopting  a 
harsh  rule  of  conduct  if  you  will  do  no  more  than 
the  law  will  compel  you  to  do.  In  a  thousand 
pounds  of  law  there  is  not  an  ounce  of  love. 

Jas.  And  in  the  hearts  of  all  these  five  hundred 
people  to  whom  you  want  to  pay  this  money,  there 
will  not  be  an  ounce  of  love  for  us,  if  they  get 
their  money.     They  will  not  even  be  grateful. 

{Maid  raps  and  enters.) 

Maid  to  Geo.  There  is  a  rough-looking  man 
at  the  door,  sir.     He  insists  on  seeing  you. 

Geo.     I  can't  see  him  now.     I  am  engaged. 

Maid.  This  is  the  third  time  he  has  been  here 
to-day. 

Geo.  Tell  him  to  wait.  I  will  see  him  in  half 
an  hour. 

Maid.     I  told  him  you  were  busy,  sir,  but  he  said 


ACT  II  35 

you  know  him,  and  would  see  him  if  you  knew  he 
was  here. 

Geo.     What   is  his   name? 

Maid.     I  couldn't  understand  it. 

Geo.     Did  he  say  what  he  wants? 

Maid.  He  says  that  you  promised  him  the 
money,  sir,  that  he  put  in  some  bank.  He  is  a 
German.     His  name  sounded  like  Bellmotter. 

Geo.     Bellmotter?     Didn't  he  say  Geldmacher? 

Maid.     Yes  sir,  I  think  that  is  the  name. 

Geo.     I  will  see  him  now. 

Jas.  Oh,  let  him  wait.  His  business  can't  be  as 
important  as  mine. 

Geo.  He  is  one  of  the  depositors  of  the  Building 
and  Trust  Company.  He  has  business  with  both  of 
us. 

Jas.  I  haven't  any  time  to  waste  listening  to 
hard  luck  stories.  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  of 
these  people  whining  and  crying  around  about  losing 
all   their  savings,  and  all  that  sort  of  rot. 

Geo.  {To  Maid.)  Have  Air.  Geldmacher  come 
up  at  once.      {Exit  maid.) 

Geo.  {To  Jas.)  This  man's  predicament  is  no 
worse  than  that  of  forty  or  fifty  others  with  whom 
I  have  talked  in  the  last  month.  Their  plight  is 
heart-rending.     They  must  be  helped. 

Jas.  I  have  troubles  enough  without  shoulder- 
ing those  of  such  a  herd.  I  don't  want  to  see  this 
fellow.  Our  business  is  brief.  Let's  end  it,  and 
I  will  get  out. 

{Enter  maid  followed  by  Geldmacher.  Geo. 
shakes  hands  with   Gus.) 

Geo.  Be  seated.  This  is  Mr.  Church,  Presi- 
dent  of   the   Building   &  Trust   Company.      {Jas. 


36  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

nods  coolly.) 

Gus.     Ah,  so?     Hass  he  got  de  money? 

J  as.     No. 

Gus.     V'en  vill  it  be  retty? 

Jas.     Perhaps  never,   the  way  things  now  look. 

Gus.     Vat?     I  von't  get  mine  money? 

Geo.  I  am  just  trying  to  arrange  with  Mr. 
Church  so  that  you  will  get  every  dollar. 

Gus.     I  got  to  haff  it  to-morrow. 

Jas.     You  will  be  in  luck  if  you  ever  get  it. 

Gus.     You  don't  mean  I  loose  all  mine  money? 

Jas.     I  do.     You  might. 

Gus.  No !  No !  No !  You  don't  keep  it.  You 
gift  it  to  me.     You  must. 

Jas.     I   haven't   your  money. 

Gus.     Aber  de  bank  hass  got  it. 

Jas.  The  bank  hasn't  got  it.  The  trust  com- 
pany had  it,  but  the  earthquake  destroyed  every- 
thing the  trust  company  had. 

Geo.  It  wasn't  all  earthquake.  Don't  consider 
your  money  lost. 

Gus.  Aber  I  needs  it  now.  Venn  I  loose  mine 
money  I  loose  mine  mine. 

Jas.  I  guess  there  is  no  danger  of  losing  your 
mind. 

Geo.  He  means  his  mine — his  gold  mine, — not 
his  mind. 

Gus.  Ya,  mine  mine;  not  mine  mind.  Maybe 
I  lose  mine  mind  when  I  loose  mine  mine. 

Geo.  Don't  worry,  Gus.  You  go  on  working 
your  mine  for  a  few  days  and  you  will  get  your 
money. 

Gus.  Ach,  I  can't  vork  him  now.  Da've  in- 
chunctioned  me  not  to  do  it.     I  must  haff  de  money 


ACT  II  37 

to  make  dis  inchunction  loose.  Dey  try  to  steal 
mine  mine.  Dey  law  me  for  it  now.  Ach  Gott! 
All  mine  life  I  vork  hard.  Me  und  mine  vife  ve 
vork,  ve  scrape,  ve  safe.  Sometimes  ve  safe  fife 
dollars  a  mont',  sometimes  ten  dollars;  lots  of  times, 
nottings.  After  vhile  I  got  Two  Hundred  Dollars. 
I  pay  all  I  safe  into  your  bank.  I  find  dis  mine. 
I  no  got  enough  money  to  pay  men  to  help  vork 
him.  So  I  myself  go  und  vork  him  a  liddle  while. 
Denn  I  come  back  here  und  vork  hard  to  buy  food 
for  mine  vife.  Venn  I  got  a  little  money,  I  go  back 
und  vork  him  some  more.  Mine  vife  is  sick.  Gret- 
chen  must  stay  at  home  mit  her,  und  can't  vork  for 
money. 

Denn  de  eardqvake  hit  mine  house,  und  fire  burn 
it.  Ve  haff  no  home.  Mine  vife  died.  To  safe 
her  I  need  money  for  doctors.  I  ask  mine  money 
from  your  bank.  You  vill  not  giff  it  to  me.  How 
mine  vife  sufter.  I  vant  money  to  buy  funeral  for 
mine  vife.  I  ask  mine  money  from  your  bank. 
You  vill  not  giff  it  to  me.  I  can't  pay  funeral, 
und  de  county  do  it.  Ach  Gott,  Ach  Gott,  mine 
poor  vife,  mine  poor  vife. 

Now  dey  steal  me  mine  mine.  For  lawyer  to  safe 
him,  I  ask  mine  money  from  your  bank.  You 
vill  not  giff  it  to  me.  By  Gott,  you  vill  gif?  it  to 
me.     I  vill  haf^  it. 

Jas.  Why  are  you  making  such  a  fuss  about 
your  mine.  It  is  probably  only  a  hole  in  the  ground. 
How  do  you  know  it  is  worth  anything? 

Gus.  For  more  as  ten  years  I  vork  in  mines  in 
Cripple  Creek  und  de  Black  Hills.  I  know  venn  a 
mine  is  goot.     I  nefer  saw"  vun  besser  as  dis. 

Geo.     His  claim  must  be  good  or  those  people 


38  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

wouldn't  be  trying  to  jump  it. 

J  as.  I  have  a  hunch.  I'll  make  you  happy.  I'll 
give  you  your  $200.oo  and  take  a  half  interest  in 
your  claim. 

Geo.  That's  unfair.  He  is  entitled  to  his 
$200.00.  Why  should  he  give  up  part  of  his  claim 
for  it? 

Gus.  I  von't  do  it.  Dem  fellows  of¥er  me  first 
fife  hundert,  denn  vun  t'ousant,  now  two  t'ousant 
dollars  for  all.     I  von't  sell. 

Jas.     Where  is  this  claim  of  yours. 

Gus.     It  iss  de  Bismark  claim  by  Mound  Shasda. 

Jas.  Oh — Then  you  are  the  man  Grabber  had 
to  sue? 

Geo.     How  do  you  come  to  know  about  it. 

Jas.  I  own  a  half  interest  in  that  claim.  This 
man  has  no  rights  there. 

Gus.  Yes,  I  haff.  I  found  him  und  for  three 
years  I  haft  been  in  that  mine  und  vorked  him. 

Geo.  {To  Jas.)  Then  why  has  he  no  rights 
there  ? 

Jas.     He  hasn't  complied  with  the  law. 

Geo.     In  what  way. 

Jas.  I  don't  know  the  details.  That  is  what  our 
lawyers  tell  us. 

Geo.  {To  Gus).  They  must  have  given  you 
some  papers. 

Gus.     Ya. 

Geo.     Where  are  they? 

Gus.     Here. 

Geo.  Let  me  see  them.  {Gus.  hands  papers  to 
Geo.  who  reads  them,  ponders  a  moment,  then 
says  to  Gus.) 

They  claim  first  that  you  were  not  a  fully  natur- 


ACT  11  39 

alized  citizen, — that  you  had  only  taken  out  the 
first  papers;  second,  that  the  notice  posted  gave 
the  date  of  discover}'  as  12/11/03,  when  you  should 
have  written  it  out,  December  11,  1903;  third,  that 
the  Notar>'  Public  before  whom  you  made  your  af- 
fidavit was  a  woman,  and  under  the  law  her  ap- 
pointment as  a  notary  is  a  nullity. 

Jas.     I  told  you  he  had  no  rights  there. 

Geo.  I  am  not  so  sure  about  that.  These  look 
to  me  like  mere  technicalities  which  do  not  af?ect 
the  validity  of  his  location. 

Gus.  Gretchen  read  dem,  but  I  coult  not  under- 
stand. I  know  mine  notices  vere  right.  Mine 
lawyer  fixed  dem. 

Geo.     Has  he  seen  these  papers? 

Gus.     No. 

Geo.     Why  don't  you  take  them  to  him? 

Gus.  He  moofed  avay  for  goot  more  as  a  mont 
ago. 

Jas.  My  friend  George  says  our  contentions  are 
mere  technicalities.  He  is  a  lawyer  and  should 
know.    Why  don't  you  give  him  the  case? 

Gus.      {To    George).     You   are   a   lawyer? 

Geo.  Yes,  I  practiced  law  for  several  years  be- 
fore my  father's  death,  at  which  time  I  was  com- 
pelled to  take  charge  of  the  bank  in  which  he  was 
deeply  interested,  and  so  had  to  give  up  the  prac- 
tice of  law. 

Gus.     Vill  you  take  mine  case? 

Geo.  Since  Mr.  Church  has  so  highly  recom- 
mended me,  I  will  be  pleased  to,  especially  as  I  in- 
tend to  practice  law  again. 

Gus.     But  I  haff  no  money. 

Geo.     Don't  worrv  about  that.     It  is  not  neces- 


40  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

sary  for  you  to  have  money.  I  will  take  care  of 
your  case  and  we  can  arrange  about  money  later. 

Gus.  Ach  Gott,  I  can't  say  how  happy  dot 
makes  me.  You  vill  safe  mine  mine  und  I  vill  giff 
you  half  of  him. 

Geo.  We  will  arrange  about  that  later.  I'll 
keep  these  papers,  study  them  carefully  to-night, 
and  I  will  want  to  see  you  to-morrow  morning  at 
ten  o'clock. 

Gus.     I  be  here  sure. 

Jas.  To  show  that  my  heart  is  in  the  right 
place,  I  will  give  you  $2,500.00  for  your  mine,  and 
w^e  will  drop  this  lawsuit. 

Gus.     No,  I  vill  not  do  it. 

Jas.  V7ell,  as  a  matter  of  charity,  we  will  make 
it  $3,000.00,  if  you  close  now. 

Gus.     I  vill  gif¥  you  half  of  him  for  $3,000.00. 

Jas.  We  don't  have  to  give  you  anything  for  all 
of  it,  but  as  I  just  said,  to  show  our  good  faith  in 
the  matter,  we  are  willing  to  really  give  you 
$3,000.00.  We  won't  let  you  keep  any  interest  in 
the  mine.  You  can  take  what  we  are  willing  to 
give,  or  you  will  get  nothing. 

Gus.     I  von't  do  it. 

Jas.  Remember  what  I  say.  You  will  feel 
sorry  for  this,  Dutch. 

Geo.  Gus  is  German,  not  Dutch.  You  shouldn't 
address  him  in  that  way.  It  does  you  no  good,  and 
it  hurts  him. 

Jas.     I  suppose  he  is  as  proud  as  he  is  poor. 

Geo.  I  think  I  am  lawyer  enough  to  settle  this 
case  right  now.  Gus.  has  ofFered  me  one-half  in- 
terest in  his  mine,  if  I  win.  Suppose  you  and  your 
people  take  that  half  interest,  let  Gus.  keep  the  other 


ACT  II  41 

half,  and  I  will  drop  out  of  it. 

J  as.  We  want  the  whole  claim.  We  are  legally 
entitled  to  it  and  we  will  get  it. 

Geo.  Very  well.  Gus,  there  is  no  use  talking 
about  this  matter  any  more  now.  Let  me  finish  my 
business  with  Mr.  Church.  You  come  back  to- 
morrow morning. 

{Exit  Gus.) 

Jos.  There  is  a  fair  sample  of  your  depositors. 
Independent  ass.  He  has  no  more  sense  of  gratitude 
than  a  stone.  The  more  you  do  for  such  fellows  the 
less  thanks  you  get. 

Geo.  We  are  not  looking  for  thanks.  If  we 
knew  now  that  not  one  of  the  five  hundred  de- 
positors would  be  grateful,  that  should  not  dis- 
courage us,  especially  w^here  it  is  our  plain  duty  to 
reimburse  them. 

Jas.  But  this  is  purely  a  business  proposition, 
and  I  am  opposed  to  it  as  a  matter  of  principle. 
Ostensibly  this  trouble  was  brought  about  by  the 
earthquake.  That  was  an  act  of  God.  How  can 
we  be  held  to  blame  for  what  was  clearly  an  act 
of  God? 

Geo.  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves.  You  must 
realize  that  we  resemble  God  in  nothing  so  much  as 
in  doing  our  duty  to  our  fellow  creatures.  "If 
each  for  each  do  all  he  can,  a  very  God  is  man  to 
man." 

Jas.  You  are  always  harping  about  foreign  mat- 
ters. I  say  again  this  is  a  business  proposition.  When 
it  comes  to  a  matter  of  duty  to  our  fellow  man,  who 
surpasses  me?  Didn't  I  give  five  thousand  dollars 
toward  rebuilding  our  church?  You  don't  even 
attend,  and  haven't  for  some  time.     Has  the  earth- 


4^  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

quake  knocked  all  the  religion  out  of  you?  Or 
have  you  gone  to  some  other  church? 

Geo.  I  am  not  practicing  any  particular  brand 
of  religion,  but  I  know  that  some  people  ought  to 
be  ashamed  of  their  best  actions,  if  the  world  only 
knew  the  motives  from  which  they  sprung. 

J  as.     By  which  you  mean — ? 

Geo.  However  brilliant  an  action,  it  should  not 
be  esteemed  great  unless  the  result  of  a  great 
motive. 

J  as.     Well,  what  was  my  motive? 

Geo.     Don't  you  know? 

Jas.     I    certainly    do. 

Geo.  Then  let  that  suffice.  Name  the  condi- 
tions under  which  you  will  contribute  your  share  of 
the  hundred  thousand  dollars,  if  any,  and  if  pos- 
sible, I  must  comply  with  them.  I  am  at  your 
mercy. 

Jas.  In  our  last  conversation  I  told  you  the  only 
possible  condition.  Assign  to  me  all  your  stock  in 
the  bank.  I  will  pay  you  for  it  the  $25,000.00  that 
you  need,  and  personally  contribute  half  of  the 
hundred  thousand  dollars. 

Geo.  You  know  we  were  offered  one  hundred 
thousand  for  the  good  will  of  the  bank.  You 
would  only  be  allowing  me  $25,000.00  when  I 
ought  to  have  about  $50,000.00.  Is  that  a  fair 
proposition,  especially  when  that  is  my  only  asset, 
and  you  have  gone  through  the  earthquake  with 
millions  left,  in  spite  of  your  losses? 

Jas.  If  you  personally  are  asking  charity,  that 
is  a  different  matter. 

Geo.  You  are  the  last  man  of  whom  I  would 
ask  charity. 


ACT  II  43 

Jas.  I  realize  that.  Therefore  I  am  making 
you  purely  a  business  offer. 

Geo.  Well,  as  a  business  matter,  why  am  I  not 
entitled  to  my  proportion  of  the  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  offered.  The  stock  is  well  worth  that 
amount  for  reorganization  purposes. 

Jas.  If  it  is  worth  more  than  I  offer,  why  don't 
you  sell  it  to  some  one  else? 

Geo.  No  one  would  buy  my  stock  without 
yours.  In  order  to  derive  benefit  the  purchasers 
must  have  practically  all  the  stock. 

Jas.  Then  you  have  been  peddling  your  stock 
about  town? 

Geo.  I  have  been  trying  to  sell  it,  if  that  is 
w^hat  you  mean. 

Jas.  And  no  one  else  would  make  you  as  good 
an  offer  as  mine? 

Geo.  What  is  the  use  of  parleying?  We  both 
understand  conditions  thoroughly.  If  you  choose  to 
take  advantage  of  my  situation,  I  must  sell  at  your 
figure. 

Jas.  I  thought  when  I  came  you  would  realize 
that.  You  ought  to  be  thankful  that  I  am  willing 
to   do   so   much. 

Geo.  I  didn't  imagine  that  you  would  be  so 
bitter  an  enemy  as  you  have  shown  yourself  to  be 
of  late. 

Jas.  He  who  is  a  bitter  enemy  is  a  strong 
friend. 

Geo.  One  capable  of  being  a  bitter  enemy  can 
never  possess  the  necessary  virtues  that  constitute  a 
true  friend. 

Jas.  If  Ann  would  come  off  her  high  horse,  you 
would  soon  see  what  a  good  friend  and  brother  I 


44  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

could  and  would  be. 

Geo.  Leave  her  name  out  of  this  discussion.  I 
am  not  responsible  for  her  feeling  of  antipathy 
against  you. 

Jas.  Suppose  you  let  her  understand  that  it  is 
within  her  power  to  prevent  this  sacrifice  and  to 
cause  you  to  be  made  president  of  the  reorganized 
bank,  don't  you  think  she  might  forget  her  anti- 
pathy ? 

Geo.  No.  She  knows  you  too  well.  I  couldn't 
change  her  if  I  would,  and  what's  more,  I  wouldn't 
if  I  could.     My  stock  is  here.     Have  you  a  check? 

Jas.  I  ought  not  to  give  you  even  the  $25,000.00 
after  what  has  taken  place.  {Takes  check  from 
pocket  and  writes). 

Geo.  Don't  for  a  moment  allow  yourself  to  be- 
lieve that  you  are  giving  me  anything.  It  is  only  to 
get  money  for  those  poor  mortals  who  can  scarcely 
keep  body  and  soul  together  that  I  give  this  stock  to 
you  at  any  price,  and  you  know  it. 
(  Curtain ) 

{Scene  II.     Same  day.     Ruth's  home.) 

Ruth  and  Mrs.  W .  in  conversation. 

Mrs.  W .  My  dear,  you  must  see  that  George 
is  impossible  now  that  he  is  ruined  financially.  You 
must  not  think  of  marrying  him. 

Ruth.  But,  mother,  we  are  practically  engaged. 
We  cannot  break  off  an  engagement  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  George  has  lost  his  money  by  the 
earthquake. 

Mrs.  W .  You  were  not  engaged.  Doubtless 
you  had  an  understanding,  but  it  was  not  a  formal 
engagement,  and  it  has  not  been  announced.   There 


ACT  II  45 

will  be  no  room  for  criticism.  I  shall  insist  upon 
it  and  will  let  George  understand  that  he  must  not 
come  here  any  more. 

Ruth.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  do  that.  I  am  no 
longer  a  child. 

Mrs.  W .  Have  not  my  losses  through  the  earth- 
quake caused  me  sorrow  enough,  without  having 
your  ingratitude  added  to  them?  Since  the  earth- 
quake you  have  persisted  in  receiving  George's  at- 
tentions against  my  protest.  You  are  making  me 
very  unhappy.  But  for  George  I  should  have  been 
much  better  of5  financially. 

Ruth.     How  did  George  cause  you  any  loss? 

Mrs.  W .  But  for  him,  I  should  have  sold  my 
bank  stock  to  Jasper  Church  for  seventy-five  thou- 
sand. Now^  I  have  the  stock,  and  can  get  a  scant 
five  thousand  for  it. 

Ruth.  You  are  unjust  to  him,  mother.  You 
must  remember  that  he  advised  you  to  sell ;  he  told 
you  that  it  was  bad  business  for  you  not  to  sell, 
and  even  offered  to  buy  it  himself  at  the  same  figure 
Jasper  offered. 

Mrs.  W,  The  fact  remains,  my  dear,  that  it 
was  because  of  George  that  I  did  not  sell.  He 
has  nothing  now,  and  I  have  determined  that  you 
shall  not  marry  him. 

Ruth.     And  I  have  determined  that  I  shall. 

Mrs.  W.  I  can't  understand  you  or  your  atti- 
tude of  late.  You  never  before  spoke  to  me  like 
that. 

Ruth.  And  you  never  before  made  such  an  un- 
reasonable demand. 

Mrs.  W.  Unreasonable!  ^Vhy,  how  can  you 
say  such  a  thing?    You  were  not  brought  up  for  a 


46  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

poor  man's  wife.  You  could  not  stand  the  drudgery 
— besides,  there  is  no  need.  I  want  a  serious  talk 
with   you. 

Ruth.  Serious  talk.  What  are  we  having  now? 
Is  this  jesting?  I  had  nothing  to  say  about  my  com- 
ing into  life,  nor  will  I  have  about  my  going  out. 
Marriage  is  the  one  great  event  about  which  wc 
have  some  choice.  It  is  the  seal  of  our  earthly  weal 
or  woe.  With  your  advice  and  approval,  I  have 
chosen,  and  chosen  well. 

Mrs.  W .  But,  my  dear,  you  did  not,  with  my 
advice  and  approval,  choose  poverty.  You  would 
make  a  fine  cook  I  And  general  housework  is  not 
quite  in  your  line. 

Ruth.  No,  I  was  reared  to  charm  with  the  bril- 
liance of  my  intellect,  with  my  attainments  in 
language,  science  and  art,  my  music,  etc.,  but  you 
think  that  I  cannot  make  a  home  comfortable  and 
inviting  for  a  poor  man. 

Mrs.  W.  It  is  not  necessary.  Social  position, 
wealth  and  distinguished  connections  are  still  with- 
in your  reach.     Be  reasonable. 

Ruth.  And  listen  to  your  reasons  without  reas- 
on. You  tempt  me  with  ease,  luxury,  social  posi- 
tion and  wealth.  For  these  you  would  have  me 
sell  my  love.  For  a  month  I  have  tried  not  to  of- 
fend you,  but  there  is  a  limit  to  my  endurance.  I 
know  your  ideas;  you  know  mine.  I  will  not 
change. 

Mrs.  W .  If  you  persist,  your  obstinacy  will  be 
the  death  of  me. 

Ruth.  Worse  than  death  to  me  would  be  life 
without  George.  He  is  the  one  man  who  can  make 
true  answer  to  my  soul's  true  love;  whose  soul  is 


ACT  II  47 

all  kindred  to  mine ;  whose  life  answers  my  ideal  of 
manly  demeanor. 

Mrs.  W.  Fine  words.  That  all  sounds  very 
pretty  now,  but  it  will  be  different  when  you 
awaken  to  find  your  status  in  society  fixed  by  that 
of  your  husband. 

Ruth.  His  status  will  always  be  good  enough 
for  me.  I  only  pray  to  God  to  make  me  worthy 
of  him.  His  character  will  never  be  endangered 
by  poverty,  and  we  do  not  regard  wealth  as  the 
onlv  or  surest  passport  to  honor  and  happiness. 

Mrs.  W .  I  have  your  best  interests  in  mind  and 
am  only  trying  to  do  my  duty  by  you.  There  is 
much  truth  in  the  old  adage  that  a  light  purse 
makes  a  heavy  heart.  "When  the  wolf  comes  in 
at  the  door,  love  flies  out  at  the  window."  You 
have  not  seen  the  other  side.  So  far  you  have 
known  only  ease  and  comfort.  You  will  find  it 
very  different  when  you  are  estranged  from  all 
vour  friends,  and  your  life  is  changed  from  what 
you  have  known,  to  a  dull  struggle  for  existence. 

Ruth.  Mother,  dear,  do  forgive  me  if  I  have 
spoken  unkindly.  You  don't  understand.  You 
can't  fuUv  understand,  or  you  would  not  persist  in 
forcing  your  ideas  upon  me.  Since  you  have  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  selling  me  to  the  highest  bidder, 
you  have  made  me  most  wretched.  You  did  not 
hesitate  to  marry  a  poor  man. 

Mrs.  W.  I  was  trained  differently  than  you 
have  been.  I  was  taught  to  do  the  things  that  would 
be  almost  impossible  for  you.  But  they  were  not 
easy.  Because  of  the  ordeals  through  which  I  pass- 
ed, I  am  anxious  to  save  you  from  them.  Times 
have    changed,    and    money    is    more    necessary    to 


48  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

happiness  than  it  was  in  my  day. 

Ruth.  Even  now  wealth  is  a  poor  substitute  for 
love,  and  misfortune  can  never  suppress  it.  I 
might  listen  to  you  wnth  more  patience  if  you  had 
any  objection  to  George  other  than  that  he  is  poor, 
which  is  no  objection. 

Mrs.  W .  I  must  not  let  you  be  misled  by  ro- 
mantic ideas  which  I  know^  you  will  regret  later. 
I  need  only  say  the  word,  and  you  will  have  an  offer 
of  marriage  from  one  who  will  give  you  every 
luxury. 

Ruth.  Have  you  already  made  plans  for  bar- 
gaining me  away? 

Mrs.  W .  I  have  in  mind  one  who  would  be  a 
suitable  husband  for  you. 

Ruth.  May  I  ask  who  the  prospective  purchaser 
is? 

Mrs.  W.  Do  not  be  impertinent,  Ruth.  You 
must  realize  that  this  is  best  for  you.  The  man 
I  have  in  mind  is  Jasper  Church. 

Ruth.  What?  Jasper  Church?  Would  you 
really  have  me  marry  Jasper?  To  give  up  George 
would  be  terrible.  To  give  him  up  for  Jasper  would 
be  monstrous. 

Mrs.  TV.  Calm  yourself,  my  dear.  Calm  your- 
self. Jasper  is  really  a  very  desirable  match.  As 
Jasper's  wife,  your  position  in  society  would  be 
assured. 

Ruth.  As  Jasper's  wife,  my  position  would  be 
unthinkable.  And  you,  my  mother,  of  all  persons, 
to  urge  it.  Now  I  can  understand  your  bitter- 
ness toward  George  since  the  earthquake.  Your 
attitude  since  then  is  clear  to  me  now.  You  have 
been  bartering  me  ofif  to  Jasper. 


ACT  II  49 

Mrs.  W.  I  have  only  been  trying  to  secure  for 
you  a  suitable  husband.  Jasper  has  money  and 
position,  and  is  no  worse  than  the  average  man.  He 
cuts  quite  a  figure  in  society,  and  is  honest  to  a 
penny. 

Ruth.  It  does  not  take  a  vtry  sharp  man  to  cut 
a  figure  in  society.  He  may  be  honest  to  a  penny, 
but  not  when  there  is  more  than  a  penny  at  stake. 
Honest,  when  it  is  convenient  and  profitable.  When 
it  costs  nothing,  and  will  pay  well,  he  is  most 
scrupulously  honest;  otherwise  he  gives  honesty 
the  slip. 

Mrs.  W .  You  are  prejudiced  against  him.  He 
is  a  deep  thinker  and  believes  that  honesty  is  the 
best  policy. 

Ruth.  He  must  be  a  deep  thinker,  for  none  of 
his  ideas  ever  get  to  the  surface.  He  ought  to  know 
that  honesty  is  the  best  policy.  He  has  tried  both. 
He  obeys  literally  the  injunction,  hold  fast  the  truth ; 
he  seldom  allows  it  to  escape  him.  As  a  liar,  he  is 
equalled  by  few  and  excelled  by  none.  He  is  as 
conceited  as  it  will  do  for  one  to  be  and  not  crack 
open. 

Mrs.  W.  My  dear,  you  are  hysterical.  You 
misjudge  him.  You  forget  that  he  is  one  of  the 
leaders  in  our  church.  He  contributed  most  gener- 
ously to  the  fund  for  rebuilding. 

Ruth.  Yes,  his  religion  is  vanity,  attracting  as 
much  attention  as  possible  with  his  money.  He 
makes  a  show-bubble  of  it;  that  is  his  shade  of  re- 
ligion. Hypocrisy,  pretense  and  profession.  He 
will  help  build  high  domes  of  worship  with  velvet 
seats  and  marble  steps  and  golden  altars,  but  he  is 
deaf  to  the  zry  of  beggar}^  squalid  want  and  ragged 


50  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

poverty.  He  talks  more  good  in  five  minutes  than 
he  does  in  five  years.  He  worships  God  only  with 
his  lips.    He  is  a  religionist.    He's — a — 

Mrs.  W.  Ruth,  dear,  you  are  working  yourself 
into  a  frenzy.  Be  composed.  I  must  go  now.  I 
promised  to  meet  Jasper  at  his  office  at  4  o'clock. 
I  am  sure  you  will  agree  with  me  when  you  have 
thought  this  over  quietly.  Jasper  will  expect  me 
to  give  him  an  answer.  I  shall  tell  him  that  you 
will  marry  him. 

Ruth.  You  will  tell  him  nothing  of  the  kind.  I 
will  not  marry  Jasper.    I  am  going  to  marry  George. 

{Exit  Mrs.  W.  to  get  wraps). 

Ruth.  I  tell  you  I  won't  marry  Jasper.  I  w^on't. 
I  won't. 

{Ruth  falls  sobbing  on  sofa.) 

{Maid  raps  at  door.     No  response,  maid  enters.) 

Maid.      {Seeing  Ruth   prostrate.)      Miss   Ruth; 

{No  response.) 

Maid.     Miss  Ruth!     Miss  Ruth!     Are  you  ill? 

Ruth.     No  please  leave  me. 

Maid.     I  will  call  your  mother. 

Ruth.     No,  no.     Don't  do  that. 

Maid.  Mr.  Chandler  is  at  the  door.  What  shall 
I   say? 

Ruth.     I  will  see  him  at  once. 

(Exit  Maid.     Ruth   wipes  eyes.) 

(Enter  Geo.) 

Ruth.  Oh,  George.  (Geo.  takes  her  in  arms. 
Ruth   sobs.) 

Geo.  What  is  the  matter,  dear?  What  is  th-: 
matter? 

Ruth.     I   am  so  miserable. 

Geo.     Tell  me  why. 


ACT  II  51 

Ruth.     Mother   forbids   our   marriage. 

Geo.     What? 

Ruth.     I  am  so  unhappy.     What  shall  I  do? 

Geo.     When   did  she  say  that,  and  why? 

Ruth.     She  wants  me  to  marry  Jasper. 

Geo.  Marry  Jasper?  For  financial  reasons,  I 
suppose. 

Ruth.     Yes. 

Geo.  So  she  wants  you  to  break  our  engagement 
because  I  am  poor? 

Ruth.     Yes,  and  I  told  her  I  wouldn't  do  it. 

Geo.     I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  your  mother. 

Ruth.  She  is  getting  on  her  wraps  now  to  go  and 
tell  Jasper  that  I  w^ill  marry  him. 

Geo.     But  she  can't  say  such  a  thing. 

Ruth.     But  she  will. 

Geo.     Against  your  wish  ? 

Ruth.     She  said  she  would. 

Geo.  I  don't  care  what  she  tells  him  without 
your  consent. 

Ruth.  She  will  never,  never  tell  him  that  with 
my  consent. 

Geo.     Then  why  should  we  worry  about  it. 

Ruth.  Mother  will  give  me  no  peace  so  long 
as  I  refuse  to  marr>^  him.  She  has  had  this  in  mind 
for  a  month.  I  can't  explain  how  wretched  it 
has  made  me. 

Geo.  I  have  a  scheme.  We  can  checkmate  moth- 
er. 

Ruth.     How? 

Geo.     Marry  me. 

Ruth.     When? 

Geo.     At  once.     This  afternoon. 

Ruth.      {Still  in  Geo.'s  arms,  nods  assent.     Geo. 


52  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

kisses  Ruth). 

Geo.  Dearest,  it  has  been  just  four  months  since 
you  first  told  me  that  you  loved  me.     And  now — 

Ruth.  There  isn't  any  stronger  word,  or  I  would 
use  it. 

(Geo.  kisses  Ruth). 

Geo.  There  is  only  one  regret.  I  can't  sup- 
port you  in  the  manner  to  which  you  have  been  ac- 
customed. 

Ruth.  But  I  can  accustom  myself  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  you  can  support  me. 

Geo.  To  hear  you  say  that  and  to  know  you  as 
I  now  do  is  worth  all  my  so-called  misfortune. 

Ruth.  There  is  something  so  sublime  in  the  reso- 
lute manner  in  which  you  have  suffered  without 
complaining,  that  makes  me  love  you  more  in  your 
adversity  than  I  did  in  your  success. 

Geo.  My  love  for  you  is  a  giant  power  which 
has  sustained  me  through  all  my  trials,  and  has  giv- 
en me  the  strength  that  at  every  difficulty  raises  me 
to  a  higher  might. 

( Geo.  kisses  Ruth.  Mother  enters  and  finds  Ruth 
in   Geo.'s  arms). 

Mrs.  W .     Ruth  what  does  this  mean  ? 

Ruth.  You  may  draw  your  own  conclusions, 
mother. 

Mrs.  W.  Very  well.  Mr.  Chandler,  Ruth  will 
not  marry  you.  I  wish  you  to  leave  the  house  at 
once. 

Geo.     But  Ruth  tells  me 

Mrs.  W .  I  will  not  discuss  the  matter  with 
you. 

Geo.     Permit  me  a  word.     I 

Mrs.  W .     There  is  nothing  to  be  said. 


ACT  II  53 


Geo.     Let  me   explain. 

Mrs.    W .     I   want   no   explanations. 

Geo.     I  just  wanted  to  tell  you- 


Mrs.  W .     I  will  not  listen.     Please  go. 

Geo.     You  can't  prevent  my  speaking. 

Mrs.  W .     You  can't  make  me  listen. 

Geo.     Ruth    and    I 

Mrs.  W.  Ruth  is  to  marry  Mr.  Church.  I 
am  going  now  to  tell  him  that  she  has  accepted  his 
proposal. 

Geo.  Let  us  accompany  you  as  far  as  Judge 
Smith's  office.  You  can  tell  Jasper  Church  we 
have  gone  there  to  be  married. 

{Ruth  and  Geo.  move  toward  door  arm  in 
arm — while  curtain  descends.) 

Mrs.  W.     Go  to  your  room  instantly! 
{Curtain) 


ACT  III 

Three  years  later,  during  which  time  George  has 
won  the  case  for  Gus.  and  become  half  owner  of 
the  mine.  He  was  also  elected  Governor  of  Cali- 
fornia. 

Scene — Office  of  the  Governor.  Nogi  sweeping. 
Enter  Rob. 

Rob.     Sweeping  out  the  room? 

Nogi.     No. 

Rob.     Well,  what  are  you  doing? 

Nogi.  Just  sweeping  out  the  dirt.  I  leave  the 
room. 

Rob.     Why  are  you  so  late  this  morning? 

Nogi.  I  miss  the  first  car.  I  never  behind, 
before. 

Rob.     I  guess  you  didn't  run  fast  enough. 

Nogi.  Yes,  I  know  I  run  fast  enough ;  but  I  no 
start  soon  enough. 

Rob.  You  had  better  hurry.  The  governor  will 
be  here  soon. 

Nogi.  I  just  through  now.  I  so  tired  that  some 
day  I  like  to  sleep  a  whole  week. 

Rob.  That  is  a  good  idea.  When  do  you  want 
to  commence? 

Nogi.     Some  evening  next  Saturday. 

Rob.  And  sleep  until  the  day  after  the  night 
before.  By  the  way,  Nogi,  how  long  have  you 
been  in  the  United  States? 

Nogi.     Three  years. 

Rob.     How  do  you  like  it? 

Nogi.  Very  much.  But  this  is  very  funny  place. 
54 


ACT  III  55 

Rob.     Why? 

Nogi.     You  have  few  thieves. 

Rob.     I   don't  understand. 

Nogi.  Thieves  are  scarce.  I  read  in  paper  you 
advertise  for  them  and  offer  reward  for  their  dis- 
covery. I  want  to  advertise  to  discover  my  purse. 
You  tell  me  if  this  is  right  for  paper.  {Hands 
paper   to   Rob.) 

Rob.  (Reads.)  Lost  on  Saturday,  loser  knows 
not  where,  an  empty  purse  with  $10.63  in  it.  On 
the  outside  are  printed  ''Nogi,"  but  worn  so  much 
it  can  not  be  observed.  He  who  en-counters  same 
may  reward  himself  with  the  purse,  but  return 
my  contents  to  Chronicle  office. 

That  is  not  entirely  accurate,  Nogi,  but  I  will 
correct  it  for  you,  after  a  while.  {Puts  ad  in  pocket.) 

Nogi.  I  thank  you,  I  much  obliged.  {Produces 
handkerchiefs.)  I  also  much  obliged  if  you  tell  me 
which  of  these  is  lavenderest. 

Rob.     This  one.     Why? 

Nogi.  I  want  to  give  it  for  birthday  present  to 
Miss  Chandler.  She  has  my  distinguished  self-re- 
spect.    I  think  her  a  fallen  angel. 

Rob.  She  is  an  angel,  Nogi.  Where  were  you 
born. 

Nogi.     I  was  born  in  Nagasaki. 

Rob.     How  big  a  place  is  that? 

Nogi.  It  as  big  as  San  Francisco,  but  not  built 
up  yet. 

Rob.  I  suppose  you  were  there  during  the  war 
with  Russia. 

Nogi.     Yes  sir. 

Rob.     Were  you  in  the  array? 

Nogi.     Yes  sir. 


56  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Rob.     What  battles  were  you  in? 

Nogi.  I  the  second  one  that  fire  the  first  shot  at 
Port  Arthur. 

Rob.     How  many  Russians  did  you  kill? 

Nogi.  I  no  know,  sir,  but  I  kill  as  many  of  them 
as  they  kill  of  me. 

Rob.     Were  you  ever  in  jeopardy? 

Nogi.     I  never  heard  of  that  place. 

Rob.  I  mean,  were  you  ever  in  great  danger  of 
death  ? 

Nogi.  Once  they  have  rumor  that  I  am  killed, 
but  I  know  it  a  mistake  as  soon  as  I  hear  it. 

Rob.  Well,  I  should  think  a  veteran  of  the  Rus- 
sian war  would  not  be  so  afraid  of  milking  a  cow  as 
you  seem  to  be. 

Nogi.  Maybe  it  not  be  so  hard  when  I  learn 
how. 

Rob.  There  is  only  one  way  to  learn,  and  that 
is  to  get  right  in  and  milk  the  cow. 

Nogi.  Could  I  not  learn  first  to  milk  the  calf? 
That  be  easier. 

{Enter  Ann.     Exit  Nogi.) 

Ann.     Good-morning. 

Rob.     Good-morning. 

Ann.     Alone? 

Rob.     Never  less  alone  than  now. 

Ann.     Thank  you. 

Rob.     How  are  you  ? 

Ann.     Well  and  happy. 

Rob.     That  serves  you  right. 

Ann.     I  came  to  see  my  brother. 

Rob.  He  is  not  here.  But  his  secretary  is  at 
your  service. 

Ann.     Won't  his  secretary  invite  me  to  wait  for 


ACT  III  57 

the  governor? 

Rob.  Do  you  need  an  invitation.  You  know 
how  pleased  I  would  be. 

{Enter  Xogi,  uho  proceeds  to  dust  slowly  door 
ii'here  he  entered,  listening  meantime  to  the  conver- 
sation.) 

Ann.  How  do  you  like  being  the  governor's  sec- 
retary' ? 

Rob.  Very  much  indeed.  I  find  that  I  am  under 
obligations  to  you  for  the  position. 

Ann.  Isn't  that  nice  to  receive  thanks  from  both 
of  you.  Only  yesterday  my  brother  complimented 
me  for  having  suggested  you  for  the  position. 

Rob.  You  have  been  more  than  kind.  From 
chaufiEeur  to  Governor's  secretar}^  is  a  great  promo- 
tion. But  do  not  think  me  ungrateful  when  I  say 
that  sometimes  I  regret  the  change.  I  enjoy  my 
present  duties  and  responsibilities,  but  I  more  than 
miss  the  pleasant  hours  spent  while  in  your  service, 

Ann.  If  that  is  ingratitude,  I  rather  like  to 
think  you  ungrateful. 

Rob.  (To  yogi.)  Suppose  you  dust  the  other 
side  of  that  door  for  a  while. 

Xogi.  Yes  sir.  {Proceeds  slowly  dusting  in- 
side. ) 

Rob.     I  mean  now,  Nogi. 

Nogi.  Yes  sir.  {Pulls  door  open  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, door  swings  in,  Nogi  stands,  holding  door 
open  and  dusts  while  inside  the  room.) 

Ann.  When  you  dust  like  that,  Nogi,  all  the 
dust  from  the  door  comes  into  the  room.  Close 
the  door,  and  stand  on  the  outside  and  dust. 

Nogi.     Yes,  ma'am. 

{Exit  Nogi,  and  closes  door.) 


58  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Ann.  I  didn't  realize  until  you  came  here,  how 
much  I  had  depended  upon  you  of  late. 

Rob.  You  make  me  regret  the  change  all  the 
more.  I  am  ready  to  desert  the  governor  for  my 
old  position. 

Ann.     Would  you  do  that? 

Rob.     Would  you  allow  me  to? 

Ann.     I  thought  you  a  man  of  high  ambition. 

Rob.  Is  it  not  a  high  ambition  to  wish  to  be  near 
you? 

{Enter  Nogi.    Slowly  dusts  inside  of  door  again.) 

Rob.  You  were  told  to  dust  the  outside  of  the 
door,  Nogi. 

Nogi.     I  just  accomplished  that. 

Rob.     Well,  let  the  inside  of  it  go  for  a  while. 

Nogi.  Yes  sir.  {Dusts  picture,  or  other  wood- 
zvork.) 

Rob.  Nogi,  I  want  you  to  let  all  the  dusting 
and  other  work  in  this  office  go  until  to-morrow 
morning.     Do  you  understand? 

Nogi.  Yes  sir.  You  mean  enough  dusting  is 
now  too  much? 

Rob.     That's  what  I  mean. 

Nogi.     Yes  sir.     {Exit  Nogi.) 

Ann.     Nogi  is  a  great  character. 

Rob.  He  often  seems  to  me  like  two  in  one. 
But  haven't  we  had  enough  of  Nogi  for  a  while? 
Didn't  we  have  a  more  interesting  subject  when  he 
last  interrupted? 

Ann.  It  seems  to  me  that  we  did.  Last  night 
I  told  my  brother  that  I  could  not  accomplish  near- 
ly all  the  good  that  he  has  planned,  without  your 
help.  He  hopes  to  arrange  matters  so  that  you 
will  have  some  time  each  day  in  which  to  assist 


ACT  III  59 

me  again,  if  you  wish  it. 

Rob.  The  idea  that  I  would  desert  the  Govern- 
or and  my  present  position  for  the  privilege,  shows 
how  ardently  I  wish  it.     May  I  begin  now? 

Ann.     Yes,    at   once. 

Rob.     Splendid. 

Ann.  Did  he  say  how  much  to  give  to  the  famine 
sufferers  in  China? 

Rob.     He  wants  them  to  have  a  thousand  dollars. 

Ann.     Only  one  thousand  dollars  for  them? 

Rob.  Yes.  but  he  wants  an  additional  four 
thousand  dollars  given  to  the  Missionary  Society 
to  pay  the  expense  of  getting  the  one  thousand  to 
the  famine  sufferers. 

Ann.  That  sounds  like  one  of  my  brother's 
jokes,  but  many  a  word  spoken  in  jest  is  true.  It 
well  illustrates  how  frequently  the  needy  get  onlv 
a  small  portion  of  what  was  intended  for  them. 

Rob.  {Starts  and  looks  Gt  watch.)  I  must  ex- 
cuse myself  now.  I  almost  forgot  a  meeting  of  the 
Panama  Exposition  Commission  at  which  I  am  to 
represent  the  governor.  I  have  barely  time  to  get 
there.  \Mien  may  your  deserter  assume  his  duties 
as  your  assistant? 

Ann.     At  your  earliest  convenience. 

Rob.     How  about  to-morrow  morning  .' 

Ann.  I  will  arrange  with  my  brother  accord- 
ingly. 

Rob.     I    will    leave    you    in    sole   charge    of    the 
office.    The  governor  will  be  here  very  soon.   Good- 
bye,  until   to-morrow.      (Exit.) 
(Enter  Frank   intoxicated.) 
Fr.     Hello,  dear. 
Ann.     Frank! 


6o  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Fr.     Yesh,  dear. 

Ann.  Drunk,  again?  I  can't  express  my  de- 
testation  of  your  conduct. 

Fr.  Dash  good,  dear.  I'm  mighty  glad  you 
can't.     Don't  cha  try. 

Ann.  You're  a  nice  one!  You  have  broken  the 
promise  you  made  last  week. 

Fr.  Never  mind  that,  dear.  I  can  make  anosher 
jush  ash  good.  I'm  a  promising  young  man, 
How'sh  that  for  a  joke? 

Ann.  You're  a  thoroughfare  of  good  resolutions. 
Howe's  that  for  a  passage.  I'll  not  waste  any  words 
on  you  while  you  are  intoxicated.  I  am  utterly 
disgusted  with  you. 

Fr.  Don't  cha  fly  off  the  handle,  dear.  What 
makesh  you  think  I'm  drunk? 

Ann.  Drunkenness  always  reveals  itself  and  a 
great  deal  more. 

Fr.  I'm  ash  shober  ash  a  judge.  I'm  only 
eight  or  ten  drinksh  in.  I've  jush  been  drinking  the 
healthsh  of  a  few  of  the  boysh. 

Ann.  Yes,  you  drink  the  health  of  everybody, 
and  drink  away  your  own. 

Fr.  I'm  a  physishian.  I  know  that  a  certain 
quantity  of  liquor  dosh  no  one  any  harm. 

Ann.  Then  it's  an  uncertain  quantity  that  is 
transforming  you  into  a  beast.  I've  given  up  hope  for 
you.    You  have  developed  into  a  hard  drinker. 

Fr.  Dash  a  downright  shlander.  I  drink  ash 
eashy  ash  anybody. 

Ann.  You  recollect  only  the  pleasure  of  getting 
drunk,  but  forget  the  pains  of  getting  sober.  Tell 
me  why  any  sane  man  will  put  such  an  enemy  into 
his  mouth  to  steal  away  his  brains.     Give  me  some 


ACT  III  6i 

reasonable  account  of  yourself. 

Fr.  You  can't  'shpect  an  account  of  a  man  who 
hash  losht  hish  balansh.    Ashk  me  anosher  quesshun. 

Ann.  You  have  lost  more  than  your  balance. 
\  ou  have  lost  practice  as  a  physician,  your  princi- 
ple, your  character,   ambition   and  self-respect. 

Fr.  Ish  dat  all?  Outside  of  dat  I'm  all  right, 
aint  I. 

Ann.  Even  your  features  show  dissipation.  You 
never  before  looked  so  old. 

Fr.  I  dare  shay.  Fact  ish,  I  never  wash  sho 
old  before  in  all  my  life. 

Ann.     Whiskey  is  your  worst  enemy. 

Fr.  Then  ish  all  right  for  me  to  love  whiskey. 
I  think  the  Bible  saysh  we  mush  love  our  enemiesh. 

Ann.  Such  a  plight.  You  are  too  drunk  to 
think. 

Fr.  Did  you  shay  drink?  Yesh,  I  will  take 
something.     It  will  do  me  good. 

Ann.  You  certainly  will.  And  with  Nogi.  You 
will  take  a  walk.     It  will  do  us  both  good. 

Fr.     I'm  thirshty.     My  throat  hurtsh. 

{Ann  goes  to  door  and  calls.) 

Nogi,  bring  a  glass  of  water. 

Fr.     I  shaid  I  wash  thirsht\',  not  dirt}-. 

{Enters  Nogi  with  water.  Hands  it  to  Fr.  Fr. 
drinks.) 

Fr.     That  sthuff  doeshn't  hit  the  right  place. 

Ann.  The  right  place  for  you  is  home.  Nogi, 
Dr.  Mason  is  drunk.     Take  him  home  at  once. 

Nogi.     I  suspected  what  I  supposed. 

Fr.  I  guesh  I  had  better  go  to  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Shmifif.  I've  been  doctoring  her  for  a  week.  She 
had  an  halushionashion  she  was  sick.     I  cured  the 


62  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

hallushfonashion.     She'sh  sick  now  a'right. 

Ann.  You  will  not  go  there  in  that  condition. 
Nogi,  take  him  home. 

{Exit  Nogi  and  Fr.) 

Ann.  Drunkenness  is  a  voluntar}^  madness.  The 
sight  of  a  drunkard  is  the  best  sermon  ever  preached 
against  liquor. 

{Enter  Geo.) 

Geo.     Hello,  Ann. 

Ann.     Good    morning,    Governor.       {Laughing- 

Geo.  If  you  persist  in  calling  me  governor,  there 
will  be  war. 

Ann.  You  threaten  war?  You  who  spend  so 
much  time  and  money  to  promote  universal  peace. 
You  are  the  last  who  should  use  such  a  threat.  Re- 
member our  slogan:    "War  nevermore." 

Geo.  Spoken  like  a  true  soldier.  War  is  hell. 
And  yet  I  never  before  felt  more  tempted  to  de- 
clare war. 

Ann.     What!     Why? 

Geo.     I  mean  war  against  liquor. 

Ann.  I  would  like  to  be  commander-in-chief  of 
your  army.     You  must  have  met  Frank. 

Geo.  Yes,  Nogi  had  him  in  tow.  He  w^as  lec- 
turing Nogi  on  English  literature,  and  was  trying  to 
tell  the  story  of  the  Progress  of  Pilgrim's  Bunyons. 

Ann.        Isn't  he  disgusting? 

Geo.  He  was  full  to  overflowing,  but  not  too 
full   for  utterance.     Was  he  here? 

Ann.     Yes,  I  had  to  ask  Nogi  to  take  him  home. 

Geo.     Wasn't   Gray  here? 

Ann.  No,  he  had  gone  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Panama  Exposition  Commission  just  before  Frank 


ACT  III  63 

came  in. 

Geo.  Yes,  I  remember  about  that.  And  you 
waited  to  see  me. 

Ann.  Yes,  Robert  says  he  is  willing  to  devote 
part  of  his  time  each  day  helping  me  in  our  work. 

Geo.     You  didn't  have  to  coax  him,  did  you? 

Ann.      No,  why? 

Geo.      I  hardly  imagined  it  would  be  necessary. 

Ann.     What  do  you  mean? 

Geo.  Nothing.  Only  he  seems  very  much  de- 
voted— to  the  work,  of  course. 

Ann.  And  to  you.  But  with  your  permission 
I  am  to  have  him  to-morrow  morning. 

Geo.  You  have  my  permission.  Did  you  get 
the  synopsis  of  our  financial  statement  from  the 
auditors? 

Ann.     Yes,  I  am  waiting  to  go  over  it  with  you. 

Geo.  Let's  take  it  up  at  once.  Gus  \Nill  be 
here  in  half  an  hour,  and  I  want  to  go  over  this 
with  you  before  he  comes.  In  round  figures,  what 
were  our  net  receipts  from  the  mine  this  year? 

Ann.     $3,150,000.     Last  year  it  was  $1,925,000. 

{Enter  Gus.)      {Greetings.) 

Geo.     Well !   you   are  early. 

Gus.  It  took  too  long  to  vait  haf  a  hour.  I 
vass  so  anxious  to  hear  how  much  ve  made.  Haff 
you   got   it? 

Geo.  Yes,  the  auditor  reports  that  we  each  made 
$3,150,000  out  of  the  mine  this  year;  almost  twice 
as  much  as  last  year.     How  does  that  suit  you? 

Gus.  Veil,  we  could  make  more  venn  ve  didn't 
pay  de  men  so  much.  Next  year  he  say  ve  make 
how  much? 

Geo.     Over  $6,000,000  each  net.     The  superin- 


64  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

tendent  expects  to  work  twice  as  many  men. 

Gus.  He  gfff  you  how  much  gold  ve  haff  in 
sight  und  how  long  it  takes  to  mine  it. 

Geo.  Yes,  over  ten  years,  netting  each  $6,000,- 
000  a  year. 

Gus.  Sixty  millions  more  for  me,  Aber  dot  iss 
not  all,  aint  it. 

Geo.  No.  There  is  apparently  a  mountain  full 
of  ore. 

Gus.  You  get  me  six  millions  next  year  vit'out 
vorking  nights? 

Geo.     That  is  the  intention. 

Gus.  V'y  not  vork  also  a  night  shift,  und  each 
get  twelve  million  a  year? 

Geo.  Night  work  is  more  dangerous  for  the 
men. 

Gus.  Not  much  more  dangerous.  Ve  pay  dem 
fife  dollars  each  a  day.     Dey  can  take  risks  for  dot. 

Geo.  What's  the  great  hurry?  The  ore  can't 
get  away. 

Gus.  Venn  I  get  it  out  I  get  interest  day  und 
night.     In  de  mine  it  earns  me  nottings. 

Geo.  You  surely  don't  need  the  money.  You 
have  made  an  independent  fortune  on  our  townsite 
speculation  alone. 

Gus.  Dot  is  chust  de  reason.  Venn  I  get  money 
out  of  de  mine  I  make  fortunes  mit  it.  You  hafiE 
made  chust  as  much  as  I  have.  I  like  to  keep  mine 
money.  You  like  to  giff  yours  avay.  Venn  ve  make 
more  money  I  haff  more  to  keep  und  you  hafif  more 
to   giff  avay. 

^  Geo.  We  are  getting  more  now  than  we  can 
distribute  to  advantage.  If  we  increase  the  output 
of  the  mine,  we  would  be  getting  richer  in  spite  of 


ACT  III  65 

ourselves. 

Ann.  Yes,  it  is  difficult  indeed  to  give  to  the 
best  possible  advantage.  It  has  been  extremely  hard 
properly  to  distribute  the  three  millions  we  had  this 
year. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  funny,  very  funny.  You  haff 
trouble  to  giff  your  money  avay,  und  I  haff  trouble 
to  keep  from  giffing  mine  away. 

Ann.  I  didn't  know  you  were  ever  tempted  to 
be  charitable. 

Gus.  I  aint.  Aber  eferyone  asks  me  alvays  to 
giff  dem  money. 

Geo.  If  it  is  hard  for  you  to  keep  three  millions 
a  year  increase,  it  will  be  more  than  twice  as  hard 
to  keep  from  six  to  twelve  millions. 

Gus.  No,  dot  makes  no  difference.  I  can  refuse 
to  giff  chust  as  easy. 

Ann.     Don't  you  ever  help  the  needy? 

Gus.  I  do  lots.  De  Governor  makes  me.  und 
I  tell  him  it  iss  not  right.  Ve  haff  ofer  fife  hundert 
men  vorking  de  mine.  He  pays  dem  fife  dollars  a 
day  each  v'en  ve  could  get  de  same  men  for  tvvo 
dollars  a  day.  I  ask  mine  bookkeeper  to  figure  how 
much  I  loose  a  year  by  dot,  und  he  tells  me  dot  alone 
vastes  ofer  four  hundert  tousand  dollars. 

Geo.     Well,  you  pay  only  half  of  that. 

Gus.  Efen  so,  dot  iss  lots  of  money.  Und  den 
you  giff  all  odder  people  v'at  vork  for  us  on  big 
vages  more  as  tv'ice  too  much.  Den  you  always 
giff  men  damaches  venn  dey  are  hurt  by  der  own 
foolishness.  Dot  iss  not  right.  Always  you  do 
odder  t'ings  like  dot.  Vone  half  of  dot  iss  mine. 
Chust  see  how^  much  I  giff. 

Ann.     You  don't  give  anything  to  the  men.     It 


66  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

is  hard  for  me  to  understand  why  you  begrudge  these 
five  hundred  providers  for  families  fair  compensa- 
tion for  their  toil. 

Gus.  Ven  ve  get  de  same  kind  of  vork  done 
for  two  dollars  a  day,  den  fife  dollars  a  day  iss 
more  as  fair  vages.  It  giffs  dem  chust  dot  much, 
und  I  don't  neffer  believe  in  gifting  nobody  nottings 
for  nottings  nohow. 

Ann.  Blessed  are  they  who  expect  nothing,  for 
they  shall  surely  receive  it. 

Geo.  If  v/e  could  get  foreigners  to  do  the  work 
for  one  dollar  a  day,  do  you  believe  wt  should  em- 
ploy them? 

Gus.  Sure,  v'y  not?  Dott  iss  peezness.  Venn 
dey  vant  to  vork  for  vun  dollar  a  day,  let  dem  do 
it.     Den  dot  iss  all  it  iss  vort! 

Geo.  Thank  Heaven,  our  contract  gives  me  full 
management  of  the  mine  with  the  right  to  fix  wages. 
Your  objections  to  five  dollars  a  day  will  be  over- 
ruled as  fast  as  you  can  advance  them. 

Gus.  I  don't  like  dot.  It  iss  not  fair.  You 
haff  de  right,  aber  you  do  me  wrong.  For  two 
3Tars  you  don't  listen  to  v'at  I  say  about  vages.  I 
ask  mine  bookkeeper,  und  he  tells  me  I  now  loose 
$7 50.00  efery  vorking  day.  Venn  ve  vork  twice 
as  many  men,  I  loose  $1,500.00  a  day.  Venn  ve 
vork  day  and  night,  like  ve  should,  I  loose  $3,000.00 
a  day. 

Ann.  No,  according  to  your  figures  you  would 
lose  only  $1,500.00  a  day — and  $1,500.00  a  night. 

Geo.  Ann  is  right.  In  order  to  save  you  money, 
we  will  not  put  on  a  night  shift. 

Gus.  I  don't  like  dot,  too.  Dot  safes  me  no 
money.     I  only  don't  loose  so  much.    Aber  six  mil- 


ACT  III  67 

lions  a  year  less  comes  out  of  de  ground,  for  me. 
Chust  think  vat  interest  I  loose,  und  v'at  profits 
I  don't  make  mit  de  money  I  don't  get.  Aint  dot 
awful  ? 

Geo.  Awful  is  no  name  for  it.  It  is  a  crime. 
What  in  God's  world  are  you  going  to  do  with  the 
money  ? 

Gus.  I  haft"  enterprise.  I  ask  mine  bookkeeper 
und  he  tells  me  maybe  I  can  be  de  richest  man  in 
San  Francisco.  I  vant  to  be  it.  Now  you  know  mine 
enterprise. 

Geo.  That  is  neither  enterprise  nor  worthy  am- 
bition; just  greed,  pure  and  simple  greed.  The  pop- 
ular variety. 

Ann.  The  accumulation  of  wealth  only  creates 
an  appetite  for  more.  'Tortune  gives  too  much  to 
many,  but  to  none,  enough." 

Gus.     I  don't  understand  that. 

Geo.  Most  people  don't  understand  that.  You 
are  a  very  good  example.  You  have  too  much 
money;  more  than  you  need,  or  know  what  to  do 
with.  And  yet  you  have  not  enough;  you  are  al- 
ways planning  and  scheming  and  striving  for  more, 
and  more,  and  more.  It  seems  that  "You  always 
want  to  get  hold  of  a  little  more  gold,  and  are  never 
so  rich  that  you  wouldn  t  be  richer." 

Gus.  V'y  shouldn't  I  do  it?  Venn  I  vass  poor 
I  vass  always  nobody.  Venn  I  got  money,  efer\'- 
body  paid  attention  to  me.  Venn  I  got  richer,  more 
people  vanted  to  know  me.  De  more  richer  I  get, 
de  more  importanter  I  am. 

Geo.  It  isn't  you  that's  important,  Gus.  It 
isn't  you  that  attracts  people.  It  is  your  gold  that 
draws  them.     Money  is  the  power.     Money  is  your 


68  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

sole  passport.  Money  alone  has  opened  the  way 
for  you,  money  would  open  it  for  anybody  else. 

Gus.  Veil,  if  it  does  dot  for  me  v'y  shouldn't 
I  haff  it?  Since  I  haff  money  I  am  invited  efery- 
v'ere.  I  dine  mit  senators,  und  bankers,  und  efery- 
body  dot  iss  anybody.  Sometimes  I  hardly  know 
myself,  dey  make  so  much  fuss  ofer  me,  und  Gret- 
chen. 

Ann.  Did  you  ever  consider  how  many  things 
money  will  not  buy,  and  these  the  best,  and  how 
many  evils  money  will  not  cure,  and  these  the  worst  ? 

Gus.     No,  v'at  iss  de  use? 

Ann.  When  will  the  world  learn  that  poverty 
is  not  evidence  of  meanness  and  degradation,  and 
that  wealth  is  not  evidence  of  character  and  cul- 
ture? 

Gus.  I  don't  know.  I  don't  care  about  dem 
t'ings. 

Ann.     Few  seem  to  care  about  such  things. 

Geo.  "We  see  what  God  thinks  of  riches,  by 
the  people  He  gives  them  to."  I  will  study  how  to 
give  a  good  account  of  my  portion.  I  don't  want 
to  keep  it  nor  add  to  it. 

Gus.     You  gifif  too  much  avay,  I  know. 

Geo.     In  benevolence  there  can  be  no  excess. 

Gus.  Charity,  Charity!  Eferyt'ing  mit  you  iss 
charity. 

Geo.  You  are  mistaken.  To  distribute  that  for 
which  we  have  no  use  and  no  need  is  not  charity. 
All  income  more  than  a  competence  is  a  sacred  trust 
for  the  public. 

Ann.  Conditions  among  the  poor  have  never 
been  worse  than  now.  So  many  are  without  work 
and   there  is  so   much  suffering.     Just  think  how 


ACT  III  69 

many  of  them  you  could  make  happy  by  using  your 
income  alone,  without  spending  any  of  your  present 
fortune. 

Gus.  It  iss  not  right  chust  to  gifE.  If  a  man  hass 
nottings,  he  must  do  someting  to  hafE  anytings. 
De  great  trouble  rait  dem  dot  iss  poor  iss  deir  ex- 
trafagance. 

Ann.  Oh,  no.  The  trouble  is  not  the  extrava- 
gance of  the  poor.  It  is  the  great  economy  of  the 
rich. 

Gus.  Veil,  ve  von't  argue  some  more  about  dot. 
Ve  can't  neffer  agree. 

Ann.  People  say  you  care  for  nothing  but  a  col- 
lection of  gold. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  of  it? 

Ann.  People  are  commencing  to  regard  you  as 
a  miser. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  of  it? 

Ann.  Then,  even  with  more  money,  you  won't 
be  so  popular  in  the  future  as  you  have  been  in  the 
past. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  of  it? 

Ann.     You  won't  live  forever. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  of  it? 

Ann.     Wealth  is  not  current  in  another  world. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  if  it  aint? 

Ann.  Some  even  say  that  you  love  gold  more 
than   Gretchen. 

Gus.     Veil,  v'at  of  it? 

Ann.     There  is  no  use  arguing  with  you. 

Gus,  Dot's  chust  vat  I  said.  Dere  aint  no  use. 
Den  let's  don't. 

Ann.  You  profess  to  be  so  religious.  How  can 
you  love  God,  whom  you  have  not  seen,  when  you 


70  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

don't  love  your  fellow  man,  whom  you  have  seen. 

Geo.  The  more  wealthy  you  become,  the  great- 
er is  your  duty  to  your  fellow-man. 

Gus.  I  always  done  mine  duty  as  I  seen  It; 
angels  couldn't  a'  did  no  more. 

Geo,  Your  duty  is  to  help  the  needy.  That 
you  have  never  done.  When  you  hoard  money,  you 
increase  the  misery  in  the  world.  It  is  incredible 
what  a  great  quantity  of  good  may  be  done  in  this 
county  by  one  man,  especially  a  wealthy  man,  when 
he  does  his  duty. 

Gus.  You  tell  me  v'at  you  done  mit  v'at  you 
giff  avay  last  year. 

Geo.  (To  Ann.)  Just  read  the  synopsis  that 
you  have. 

Ann.  [Reads.)  First:  for  the  purpose  of  as- 
sisting in  bringing  about  the  settlement  of  all  in- 
ternational differences  by  arbitration  instead  of  war, 
$1,500,000. 

Gus.  {Impatiently.)  Ach,  foolishness.  You 
vaste  all  dot  money;  und  so  much.  You  can't  stop 
vars.  Vat  odder  money  did  you  giff  avay,  und 
for  v'y. 

Ann.      {Reads.)      For   libraries,   $19,000.00. 

Geo.     Not  a  very  large  sum  for  libraries. 

Ann.  No,  Carnegie  has  covered  that  field  pretty 
well,  and  we  determined  not  to  compete  with  him. 

Gus.  I  spent  more  as  fife  t'ousant  dollars  last 
year  for  Gretchen's  library,  und  buyed  her  only 
luxurious  additions.  Dey  are  de  best.  Most  of 
dem  are  green  und  red  and  blue  vuns.  It  iss  her 
birthday  next  week,  und  I  vant  you  to  please  buy 
me  for  her  about  four  shelfs  of  gilt  edge  vuns  mit 
yellow  backs.     Dey  look  goot  mit  de  odders. 


ACT  III  1\ 

Ann.     Certainly.     I  know  what  will  please  her. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  goot.  Aber  don't  spend  more  as 
vun  hundret  dollars. 

Geo.     What  is  next  on  our  list? 

Ann.  {Reads.)  For  Humane  Societies,  $250,- 
000.00. 

Geo.  I  believe  every  cent  of  that  was  disbursed 
to  the  best  possible  advantage.  Gray's  idea  to  have 
an  active  society-  established  in  tvtry  county  seat 
in  the  union  is  excellent;  his  manner  of  bringing 
it  about,  perfect ;  and  I  will  never  rest  content  until 
it  has  been  accomplished.  Next  year  we  can  ap- 
propriate twice  as  much  for  this  purpose,  if  neces- 
sary. 

Ann.  The  reports  we  get  are  most  satisfactory. 
A  wonderful  change  in  sentiment  is  taking  place, 
and  wanton  cruelty  is  rapidl>  becoming  a  thing  of 
the  past. 

Gus.  Dem  societies  iss  chust  for  animals,  aint 
dey? 

Ann.     Yes,  largely. 

Gus.  Veil,  v'y  vaste  money  on  dem?  You  get 
no  t'anks.     De  animals  don't  know  der  difference. 

Geo.     We  know  there  is  a  difference. 

Gus.  How  I  w^ould  hate  to  haft  mine  money 
vasted  on  dogs,  und  cows,  und  I  guess  pigs,  too. 
Aint  it  I  am  right? 

Ann.  Yes.  even  pigs.  "All  creatures  are  of  and 
from  God."  The  lower  animals  have  rights  which 
must  be  respected. 

Geo.     Read  the  next  item,  Ann. 

Ann.      {Reads.)      For   Newsboys,  $250,000.00. 

Geo.  We  must  also  double  our  appropriation 
for  them.     The  results  of  our  work  in  their  be- 


72  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

half  were  even  more  gratifying  than  for  the  Humane 
Societies. 

Gus.  Dem  little  rascals  sure  don't  appreciate 
nettings. 

Ann.  You  are  wrong  about  that.  Of  all  the 
people  we  try  to  help,  none  are  so  grateful,  none 
make  so  much  of  opportunities  given  them,  none 
are  so  loyal  as  the  newsboys.  They  are  such  in- 
dependent, interesting  and  energetic  little  fellows. 
I  love  them  all, 

Geo.  You  and  Gray  are  playing  the  newsboys 
favorites,  but  they  deserve  all  we  can  do  for  them. 
And  Gray  certainly  does  know  how  to  do  for  them. 

Ann.     He  has  wonderful  ideas. 

Geo.  Yes,  his  ideas  have  made  our  fortune  a 
much  greater  blessing  to  mankind  than  it  ever  would 
have  been  without  them. 

Ann.  Since  you  have  monopolized  him,  I  realize 
mDic  than  ever  the  truth  of  what  j'ou  say. 

Geo.  Just  since  I  have  monopolized  him,  eh? 
Absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder? 

Ann.     The  next  item  is  for  churches,  $i  1,000.00. 

Gus.  Vat?  You  giflf  only  $11,000.00  for 
churches?  I  beat  you.  I  myself  gif?  de  church 
$12,500.00. 

Ann.  But  ten  thousand  of  that  was  when  your 
congregation  built  a  new  church. 

Gus.  Yes,  aber  I  giff  it  to  religion,  chust  de 
same.     So  bleased  am  I  dot  I  beat  you,  I  can't  tell. 

Geo.     Don't  try. 

Gus.     Ach,  dot  iss  goot;  dot  iss  goot. 

Ann.  {Reads.)  For  direct  local  work,  total 
$479,000.00.  The  items  are  given  here.  Do  you 
want  them? 


ACT  III  73 

Geo.     No,  unless  Gus  gave  more.     Did  you? 

Gus.  Ach,  no.  Dot  iss  vat  I  don't  belief  in; 
dem  kind  of  charities. 

Ann.  {Reads.)  California  park,  2i,(X)0  acres, 
$580,000.00.  Tools  and  machinery,  $50,000.00. 
Labor,  $459,000.00.  Total,  $1,099,000.00.  Do 
you  want  more  details? 

Geo.     No. 

Gus.     How  many  men  you  vork  dere? 

Geo.  The  same  as  at  the  mine,  five  hundred. 
Next  year  we  will  have  a  thousand. 

Gus.     How  much  you  pay  dem? 

Geo.     Three  dollars  a  day. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  not  right.  You  giff  our  men  at 
de  mine  fife  dollars  a  day,  und  you  giff  your  own 
men  only  dree  dollars  a  day. 

Geo.  Well,  I  will  let  you  in  on  the  snap.  You 
can  pay  half  of  their  wages. 

Gus.  V'y  for  I  vant  to  do  a  t'ing  like  dot?  You 
make  nottings  efen  ven  you  get  dem  for  vun  dollar 
a  day. 

Geo.  That's  right.  I  guess  I  am  running  a  los- 
ing proposition. 

Gus.  Veil,  Venn  you  know  it,  v'y  do  you  do  it? 
Unless  maybe  you  sell  de  land  for  a  big  profit  some 
day. 

Geo.  No,  I  can't  do  that.  I  have  given  it  to 
the  state. 

Gus.     For  nottings? 

Geo.     Yes,  for  nothing. 

Gus.  Veil,  v'y  do  you  vork  men  dere  if  you  haff 
gifFen  it  avay? 

Geo.  I  have  two  reasons.  First,  to  provide  a 
place  where  every  man,  woman  and  child  may  enjoy 


74  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

to  the  fullest  extent  all  the  beauties  and  blessings  of 
Nature,  a  church  of  churches;  God's  own  temple; 
second,  to  employ,  for  their  own  benefit,  and  for  the 
benefit  of  mankind,  as  many  as  I  can  possibly  afford 
of  those  who  would  otherwise  be  without  employ- 
ment. 

Gus.  Dem  tree  dollar  a  day  men  aint  all  mar- 
ried, are  dey? 

Geo.     No,  why? 

Gus.  Oh.  I  see.  You  don't  care  about  married 
men  venn  you  don't  vant  to  make  money  out  of 
dem,  aint  it? 

Geo.     What  do  you  mean? 

Gus.  At  de  mine  you  won't  hafE  nottings  only 
married  men.  Dot  iss  so  ve  haff  lots  of  people  on 
our  townsite,  aint  it?  De  scheme  iss  to  make  a 
big  city  qvick  und  make  de  lots  vorth  lots  more. 
aint  it? 

Geo.  That  is  far  from  the  idea.  Married  men 
should  have  the  preference  because  of  those  who  are 
dependent  upon  them.  It  is  true  that  more  families 
make  our  townsite  worth  more.  And  when  we  em- 
ploy twice  as  many,  it  will  result  in  more  than 
doubling  the  value  of  our  acreage.  It  is  now  worth 
a  fortune.  I  wish  I  were  certain  of  the  best  way 
to  give  our  employees  the  fullest  benefit  of  it.  Since 
we  have  determined  to  double  the  force,  this  prob- 
lem has  been  uppermost  in  my  mind.  Ways  and 
means  will  be  devised  to  solve  it,  so  as  to  bring  about 
the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  number. 

Ann.  Gus  will  also  want  to  do  the  greatest 
good  to  the  greatest  number.  But  with  him  the 
greatest   number   is  number  one. 

Gus.     You    sure    don't    mean    you    vant    to    gifE 


ACT  III  75 

avay  our  town  lots. 

Geo.  That's  just  what  I  mean.  Ann  and  I  to- 
gether have  in  bonds  what  we  know  to  be  a  com- 
petence, and  we  have  both  determined  not  to  ac- 
cumulate another  penny.  Enough  is  as  good  as  a 
feast. 

Ann.  Yes.  WTiat  real  good  can  an  addition  to 
a  fortune  already  sufficient  procure.  Not  any.  One 
may  be  rich  in  giving,  but  not  in  saving.  Simply 
multiplying  wealth  will  never  bring  contentment. 
Contentment  alone  can  make  one  rich.  There  is 
no  wealth  without  it. 

Gus.  Vun  t'ing  I  am  glad  of.  Mine  interest 
in  de  town-site  you  can't  giff  avay.  You  are  crazy. 
You  don't  know  v'ere  to  stop  giffing. 

Geo.  No.  WTien  once  you  start  our  system, 
the  joy  is  so  supreme  there  is  no  stopping. 

Ann.  The  Governor  is  certainly  right.  The 
highest  happiness  is  derived  from  doin;:  d^^eds  of 
kindness,  and  wondrous  are  the  pleasures  of  gener- 
ous acts. 

Gus.  Veil.  I  make  dot  kind  of  pleasure  for  you. 
Venn  you  haff  too  much  money,  giff  it  to  me.  I 
take  it. 

Geo.  Well,  if  we  give  it  to  you,  and  you  become 
the  richest  man  in  San  Francisco,  what  then  ? 

Gus.  Maybe  some  day  I  could  be  de  richest 
man  in  California. 

Geo.     What   then? 

Gus.  Maybe  some  day  I  could  be  de  richest  man 
in  America. 

Geo.     WHiat  then? 

Gus,  Maybe  some  day  I  could  be  de  richest 
man  in  de  vorld. 


76  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Geo.     What  then? 

Gus.  Ma^-be  I  could  be  de  richest  man  dot  efer 
liffed.  Now,  you  haff  really  mine  enterprise,  und 
anyhow,  dan  money  dere  iss  no  better  serfant. 

Geo.  Money  may  be  a  good  servant,  but  it  is 
a  dangerous  master.  Money  is  your  master,  not 
your  servant.  You  do  not  possess  it.  It  has  taken 
possession  of  you. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  funny  talk.  Vat  you  mean  I 
don't  understand. 

Geo.  I  will  make  it  so  plain  that  you  will  un- 
derstand. I  mean  that  you  have  sold  yourself,  body 
and  soul  for  the  sake  of  gain.  I  mean  that  you 
delight  in  naught  but  gold ;  that  you  worship  money, 
that  your  greatest  and  only  soul  satisfying  joy  is 
not  in  doing  good  for  anyone,  but  in  just  gathering 
gold;  piling  money  higher  and  higher  in  your 
chests;  increasing  your  bank  account;  adding  bonds 
to  bonds,  mortgages  to  mortgages,  and  stocks  to 
stocks.     Is  that  clear? 

Gus.  I  am  not  so  vorse  as  you  t'ink,  although 
some  of  us  iss  a  great  deal  better  dan  most.  Dere 
iss  lots  vorse  men  dan  me. 

Geo.     And  lots  better,  too. 

Gus.  I  radder  be  chust  vat  I  am  dan  lots  of 
odder  t'ings.  All  mine  dollars  iss  honest.  I  am 
a  self-made  man. 

Geo.  Then  you  can't  blame  anyone  else.  "Many 
a  self-made  man  is  proud  of  a  poor  job." 

Gus.     If  I  die  I  giff  somet'ing  avay  like  you  vant. 

Geo.  That  shows  how  selfish  you  are.  You 
are  willing  to  give  when  you  die  only  because  you 
can't  keep  it  any  longer. 

Ann.     You  pass   through   this  world   but  once. 


ACT  III  77 

Therefore,  do  now  whatever  kindness  you  can  for 
your  fellow-man.  You  shall  not  pass  this  way 
again.  By  benevolence  you  would  win  the  affec- 
tion of  all. 

Geo.  I  would  rather  have  the  affectionate  re- 
gard of  my  fellow-man  than  heaps  of  gold. 

Gus.  I  haflF  both,  und  dot  iss  better  dan  either. 
Eferj'  body  iss  mine  friend  und  likes  me.  Dey  tell 
me  so. 

Geo.  Those  whom  you  think  your  friends  are 
but  flatterers,  and  I  know  that  many  of  them  do  not 
hold  you  in  esteem.  Theirs  is  the  friendship  that 
follows  wealth.  When  you  are  gone,  they  will  little 
mourn,  nor  long  remember  you. 

Ann.  You  surely  don't  entertain  the  foolish  no- 
tion that  you  will  live  on  this  earth  forever? 

Gus.  Veil,  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  mine 
last  fatal  illness,  und  venn  I  am  gone,  I  am  gone, 
so  vat  iss  de  difference  den  vat  dey  t'ink. 

Ann.  As  you  realize  that  you  can't  dwell  here 
forever,  why  prepare  for  everything  but  death  ? 

Geo.  Gus,  when  you  die,  this  will  be  your 
epitaph : 

"Here  crumbling  lies  beneath  the  mould 
A  man  whose  sole  delight  was  gold  ; 

Content  was  never  once  his  guest, 
Though  many  millions  filled  his  chest; 

For  he,  poor  man,  w4th  all  his  store, 

Died  in  great  want — the  want  of  more." 

Gus.  It  don't  make  me  feel  pretty  good  to  talk 
aboud  deat'.  Dot  iss  de  last  t'ing  I  vant  to  do,  iss 
to  die. 


78  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Geo.  Well,  that  probably  will  be  the  last  thing 
you  will  do. 

Ann.  I  should  think  you  would  be  ashamed  to 
be  so  sting>^ 

Gus.  Veil,  I  radder  be  ashamed  dan  giff  avay 
mine  money. 

Ann.  Nothing  can  excuse  a  want  of  kindness  to 
fellow  creatures  in  distress.  Why  not  join  us  in 
our  work  and  devote  just  a  portion,  say  even  half 
of  your  income,  for  the  benefit  of  humanity. 

Gus.     For  v'y  should  I  do  it? 

Ann.  You  are  in  a  position  to  do  so  much,  that 
you  could  earn  the  gratitude  of  millions  yet  un- 
born, and  your  name  would  be  a  blessed  memory. 

Gus.  Dem  t'ings  don't  help  a  dead  man  none, 
I  radder  haff  de  money. 

Ann.  When  \'0u  are  dead,  you  uon't  have  the 
money,  anyway. 

Gus.  Do  you  t'ink  your  friends  iss  better  dan 
mine  friends? 

Ann.     Why  do  you  ask? 

Gus.  You  say  mine  friends  come  to  me  on  ac- 
count of  mine  money.  Dot  iss  not  true.  I  giff  dem 
nottings.  You  buy  your  friends  mit  vat  you  giff 
dem,  aint  it.  If  you  qvit  giffing,  don't  you  loose 
dem  all? 

Geo.  No,  my  friends  get  little  or  nothing  from 
me.  Most  of  what  I  give  is  for  the  benefit  of 
those  whom  I  don't  know,  who  are  not  my  friends  ; 
and  yet — they  are  my  brethren.  One  God  is  the 
father  of  us  all.  He  never  intended  that  the  bless- 
ings of  the  earth  should  be  hoarded  by  the  few,  while 
the  many  suffer. 

Ann.     Most  of  the  suffering  and  misery  in  the 


ACT  III  79 

world  come  from  the  unequal  distribution  of 
wealth.  It  is  an  artificial  condition — man  made — 
nursed  and  fostered  by  those  whose  sole  ambition 
it  is  to  heap  up  stupendous  fortunes  at  the  expense 
of  the  toiling  millions.  These  know  life  only  as 
a  bitter  struggle  for  existence. 

Gus.  You  alvays  talk  charity.  I  say  again,  mit 
you  eferyt'ing  iss  charity. 

Ann.  If  everyone  did  right  and  there  were  un- 
iversal fair  dealing  in  the  world,  earth  would  be 
a  heaven,  and  there  would  be  no  need  of  charity. 

Gus.  You  are  satisfied  mit  how  you  gift  your 
money  avay  last  year? 

Ann.     Yes. 

Geo.     Yes,  more  than  satisfied. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  goot.  You  both  are  satisfied  mit 
how  you  giff  yours  avay;  I  am  satisfied  mit  how  I 
keep  mine.  We  are  all  dree  satisfied ;  so  let's  make 
no  more  talk  aboud  it. 

Geo.  Just  one  more  question.  Do  you  think 
that  you  could  get  any  one  to  look  after  all  your 
millions  for  nothing  more  than  board  and  clothing. 

Gus.  No,  no.  To  do  dot,  any  man  vould  be 
a  great  big  fool. 

Geo.     Well,  that  is  all  you  are  getting  out  of  it. 

{Enter  Robert.)       [Greetings.) 

Geo.  {To  Rob.)  Well,  what  did  you  accom- 
plish at  the  meeting? 

Rob.  Nothing.  The  commissioners  reported 
progress,  and  took  up  the  entire  session  discussing 
your  resignation. 

Gus.     You  vill  honestly  resign  as  gofernor? 

Geo.     Yes. 

Gus.     I  vouldn't  do  it.     Efenbodv  savs  as  how 


8o  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

5"0u  are  de  best  gofernor  dot  efer  vass. 

Ann.  That  is  one  thing  on  which  I  can  agree 
with  Gus.  Everyone  is  opposed  to  your  resigna- 
tion. 

Geo.     That  is  ver}^  gratifying. 

Rob.  Even  the  hostile  newspapers  are  praising 
you  now.  A  wonderful  tribute  to  a  living  man. 
With  newspapers  that  seek  to  control,  it  is  always 
a  rule  or  ruin  policy.  Little  attention  do  they  pay 
to  whether  or  not  the  power  of  those  in  authority 
is  exercised  in  the  cause  of  better  government.  They 
magnify  mistakes,  impugn  motives,  belittle  ideas, 
ignore  achievement,  and  stop  at  no  distortion  of 
facts,  or  misrepresentation  to  bring  about  what  they 
desire. 

Geo.  That  is  true.  But  to  their  friends  the 
newspapers  are  as  blindly  loyal  as  they  are  blindly 
hostile  to  their  opponents.  Only  about  the  things 
in  which  they  have  no  interest,  do  they  make  an 
honest  effort  to  learn  and  print  true  facts. 

Gus.  I  hear  efer\'body  say  you  should  not  re- 
sign. Dey  say  if  you  stay  gofernor,  you  be  pres- 
ident.    You  be  a  great  man. 

Geo.  The  most  useful  man  is  the  greatest.  That 
is  why  I  am  resigning.  I  believe  that  I  can  accom- 
plish the  most  good,  and  be  most  useful  by  devot- 
ing my  entire  time  to  the  proper  distribution  of  the 
immense  wealth  which  Providence  has  placed  under 
my  control.  There  are  hundreds  of  others  who 
can  acceptably  fill  my  position  as  governor.  I  con- 
sider it  my  duty  to  resign. 

Gus.  Dot  iss  not  right.  If  you  resign  I  can't 
tell  people  de  gofernor  iss  mine  partner.  Venn  I 
tell  dem  dot,  dev  t'ink  me  somebodv. 


ACT  III  8i 

Geo.     I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  light. 

Gus.  I  vould  giff  vun  hundert  dollars  if  I  could 
sa}^  dot  de  president  iss  mine  partner,  und  if  me  und 
Gretchen  could  visit  him  in  de  Vite  House. 

Geo.  Much  as  I  would  like  to  pry  you  loose 
from  so  much  money,  I  refuse  to  be  President. 

Gus.  How  you  refuse  to  be  President  so  easy, 
surprises  me. 

Rob.  It  looks  as  if  you  will  have  to  offer  the 
Presidency  to  some  one  else. 

Gus.     V'en  you  stop  being  gofernor. 

Geo.  Next  month  after  the  legislature  adjourns. 
I  want  to  see  half  a  dozen  or  more  laws  enacted ; 
one  of  which  provides  for  an  inheritance  tax. 

Gus.  Aint  ve  got  more  as  plenty  taxes  now? 
Vat  kind  of  a  vun  is  dot — vot  you  call  it? 

Geo.  An  inheritance  tax.  It  means  that  when  a 
rich  man  dies,  part  of  his  property  goes  to  the  state. 
The  richer  he  is,  the  heavier  the  tax.  I  want  the 
state  to  get  half  of  all  a  man  leaves  in  excess  of  one 
million. 

Gus.  You  don't  mean  if  I  die  de  state  takes  more 
und  more  until  it  gets  almost  half  mine  money. 

Geo.     That  is  the  idea. 

Gus.     You  chust  choke  to  tease  me,  aint  it? 

Geo.     No. 

Gus.  If  I  leave  a  hundret  millions,  you  vant  to 
state  to  get  almost  fift>-  millions  of  mine  money? 

Geo.     Yes. 

Gus.  Dot  be  no  taxes.  Dot  be  robbery.  Dot 
be  unconstitutional.  So  long  I  liff,  I  vould  not  let 
mine  estate  pay  dot.  I  vould  fight  it.  I  aint  afraid, 
aber  it  vorries  me.  You  better  resign  right  avay. 
Vat  else  you  got  ? 


82  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Geo.  Nothing  else  that  need  excite  you.  I  can't 
explain  them  now,  but  I  want  to  see  enacted  a  work- 
men's compensation  act,  an  eight-hour  law,  a  blue 
sky  law  for  corporations,  a  law  regulating  child  la- 
bor, a  law  to  punish  false  advertising,  pure  food 
laws,  especially  one  to  compel  all  packers  to  stamp 
on  every  can  and  package  of  food  the  exact  date 
when  it  was  put  up,  and  social  hygiene  laws. 

Gus.     I  got  such  a  headache ;  I  go  home  now. 

Rob.  {At  desk.  Takes  papers  from  drawers.) 
You  had  better  take  this  with  you. 

Gus.     Vat  iss  it? 

Rob.  Your  naturalization  papers.  I  got  them 
this  morning.      (Hands  papers  to  Gus.) 

Gus.  (Unfolds  paper  and  looks  at  it.)  Dot  iss 
goot.     Dot  iss  fine.     I  am  now  a  native  born  citizen. 

Rob.  While  you  are  here.  I  want  you  to  sign 
this  affidavit. 

(Gus  signs.) 

Rob.  Raise  your  right  hand.  You  solemnly 
swear  that  the  facts  stated  in  this  affidavit  are  true, 
as  you  verily  believe,  so  help  you  God? 

Gus.     Yes,  I  do.     Vat  iss  it? 

Rob.  Your  oath  as  a  director  of  the  Bismark 
Mining  Company. 

Gus.  (Noticing  letters  on  desk.)  You  got  all 
dem  letters  to-dav? 

Rob.     Yes. 

Gus.  I  get  so  many  letters  as  dot  efery  day. 
More  as  dree  fourt's  vant  money. 

Rob.     How  do  you  answer  them? 

Gus.  So  qvick  I  find  out  vat  dey  vant  I  put 
dem  in  de  vaste  basket  unopened.  Oh,  gofernor. 
I  know  somet'ing  I  vant  to  tell  you  und  Ann,  aber 


ACT  III  83 

it  iss  a  secret,  und  I  vant  nobody  to  know  it.  All 
dree  of  you  say  nettings. 

Ann.  Then  why  tell  us?  Can't  you  keep  a 
secret  ? 

Gus.  Yes,  I  can  keep  a  secret,  aber  de  people  I 
tell  dem  to  don't. 

Ann.     Then  don't  tell  us. 

Gus.  I  von't,  aber  it  iss  too  funny  not  to  tell. 
Jasper  Church  for  more  as  tw^o  veeks  vants  to 
marry  mine  Gretchen,  und  asks  me  about  it  many 
times. 

Ann.     Does  Gretchen  w^ant  to  marry  him? 

Gus.  Vat  Gretchen  vants  makes  no  diflFerence. 
I  don't  vant  she  shall  marry  him,  und  Gretchen 
don't  vant  it,  too.  Ain't  dot  funny.  Venn  I  am 
poor  he  makes  fun  of  me  und  Gretchen.  Now  he 
vants  de  man  he  called  Dutch,  for  his  fader-in-law. 

Geo.  Strange  things  do  happen.  That  gives 
Jasper  the  refusal  of  three  of  the  finest  girls  I  know, 
Ann,   Ruth,  and   Gretchen. 

Gus.  I  haft  anoder  secret.  Dis  vun  you  must 
not  tell  anybody  at  all,  eider.  Lord  Nowit,  I  t'ink, 
maybe  loves  Gretchen  I  know,  und  vants  me  for 
fader-in-law.  Dot  makes  me  glad,  den  mine  daugh- 
ter iss  Lady  Nowit  some  day  maybe. 

Ann.     You  ought  to  be  proud  of  Gretchen. 

Gus.      I  am.       I  bin  dot  girl's  fader  all  her  life. 

Geo.  Gretchen  and  Lord  Nowit  will  make  an 
excellent  match  and  I  look  forward  to  seeing  your 
hopes  fulfilled. 

Rob.  Marriage  may  generally  be  regarded  as 
a  lotter}%  but  this  marriage  would  not  be.  Each 
would  be  assured  of  the  greatest  prize  on  earth; 
the   one   an   excellent   husband;   the   other   an   ex- 


84  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

ceptional  wife. 

Geo.  More  than  your  greatest  expectations  have 
been  realized  in  many  ways. 

Gus.  Yes,  dot  iss  true;  aber  I  t'ought  dey 
would.     I  got  mine  automobile  to-day. 

Rob.     How  do  you  like  it? 

Gus.  It  iss  fine,  aber  it  skiddooed  mit  us  dis 
morning. 

Rob.     You  mean  skidded? 

Gus.  Veil,  one  of  dem  both ;  dere  aint  no  differ- 
ence. 

(Gus  shudders.) 

Geo.  What  is  the  matter?  Still  frightened 
because  of  the  skidding? 

Gus.  Ach,  no.  Silk  undervear,  it  itches,  dot's 
vot.  (Scratches.)  I  got  to  go  now.  Be  sure,  Ann, 
to  pay  no  more  as  vun  hundert  dollars  for  dem 
books.     I  guess  dey  trust  me  for  de  money. 

Ann.     Very  well. 

(Exit  Gus.) 

Rob.  Gus  practices  economy  more  faithfully 
than  a  poor  man. 

Ann.  Yes.  You  would  have  enjoyed  our  con- 
versation this  morning.  We  were  trying  to  get  him 
to  give  according  to  his  means. 

Rob.  But  like  most  others,  he  gives  according  to 
his  meanness. 

Geo.  Experience  has  taught  me  that  when  a  man 
wants  money  or  assistance,  the  world  is,  as  a  rule, 
ver}^  obliging,  and  lets  him — want  it. 

Ann.  I  think  benevolence  is  a  sentiment  com- 
mon to  human  nature.  One  very  seldom  sees  an- 
other in  distress  without  wishing  some  third  person 
to  relieve  him. 


ACT  III  85 

Geo.  {to  Rob.)  Are  there  any  matters  requiring 
my  personal  attention  at  present? 

Rob.  No,  but  you  received  a  most  complimen- 
tary letter  from  the  president. 

Geo.  He  is  not  offering  me  his  position,  or 
wanting  to  make  me  his  deputy,  is  he? 

Rob.  No,  he  is  not  so  generous  with  the  office 
of  President  as  Gus  is. 

Geo.     What  did  he  write? 

Rob.  He  wrote  to  congratulate  you  on  your 
stand  against  war.  His  letter  is  long,  but  ends  as 
follows:    {Reads.) 

I  believe,  with  you,  that  war  will  soon  be  a  thing 
of  the  past,  and  placed  in  the  same  fiendish  category 
as  the  rack,  the  stake  and  the  inquisition.  Great 
strides  have  been  made  in  moral  advancement  during 
the  last  twenty  years,  and  the  day  is  fast  approach- 
ing when  universal  peace — a  paradise  worth  having 
— will  have  come  to  earth.  You  have  worked  mir- 
acles in  the  past  year  with  the  $1,500,000  that  you 
have  devoted  to  this  work,  notwithstanding  that 
growth  in  this  direction  is  slow  and  must  be  deter- 
mined and  directed  by  the  moral  sentiment. 

I  realize  that  no  man,  be  he  ever  so  wise,  can  of 
himself,  and  no  nation,  be  it  ever  so  advanced,  can 
of  itself  accomplish  so  much;  though  on  the  other 
hand  I  agree  with  you,  that  all  men  of  all  nations 
striving  therefor  can,  should  and  will,  sooner  or 
later,  attain  the  desired  end.  By  distributing  prizes 
to  the  high  school  students  throughout  the  nation  for 
essays  on  this  subject,  you  have  chosen  the  most  fer- 
tile field,  and  the  one  where  the  deepest  and  most 
lasting  impressions  will  result.  You  have  caused  al- 
most all  of  these  students  and  many  of  their  parents 


86  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

to  devote  much  time  and  thought  to  a  consideration 
of  the  evils  of  war,  and  of  the  absolute  efficiency  of 
arbitration  as  a  remedy,  thereby  hastening  to  a  happy 
maturity  that  w^hich  is  novi^  surely  the  most  impor- 
tant bud  of  advancing  civilization.  Your  system  is 
bringing  this  crying  necessity  before  the  minds  of  the 
most  able  and  influential  at  this  most  opportune  time, 
when  every  man  in  the  country  with  a  mind  large 
enough  to  be  visible  to  the  eye  of  intelligence  is 
thinking  in  that  line.  Thousands  of  invaluable  ideas 
are  being  circulated  by  reason  thereof,  and  after  a 
few  years  of  such  a  sunshine  of  intelligence  in  that 
direction,  the  result  will  meet  your  highest  expec- 
tation, and  the  world  will  be  ripe  for  the  desired 
step. 

It  is  my  purpose  to  ask  Congress  to  appropriate 
an  amount  equal  to  the  cost  of  only  one  battleship 
to  be  used  along  the  lines  that  you  have  marked 
out.  By  using  the  cost  of  only  one  battleship  annual- 
ly, we  could  soon  create  a  force  more  potent  against 
vv^ar  than  the  most  powerful  navy  the  ingenuity  of 
man  could  assemble.  Other  nations  would  follow 
our  example,  and  the  day  of  universal  peace,  instead 
of  being  an  iridescent  dream,  would  soon  become  a 
magnificent  reality. 

Ann.     You  should  be  proud  of  such  a  letter. 

Geo.     I  am. 

Rob.  The  Governor  has  received  dozens  of  let- 
ters equally  gratifying,  though  not  from  so  high  a 
source.  To  assist  in  preventing  the  misery  and  suf- 
fering caused  by  war,  to  stop  its  rivers  of  blood,  and 
dry  its  seas  of  tears,  is  an  ambition  of  which  any 
man  might  be  proud. 

Geo.     I  am  going  into  my  private  office.    I  have 


ACT  III  87 

much  to  do,  and  will  see  no  one  until  this  after- 
noon. 

{Exit  Geo.) 

Ann.     I  nearly  forgot  that  I  have  a  quarrel  with 
you. 

Rob.     You  can't  quarrel  with  me.     Have  I  of- 
fended you? 

Ann.     Yes,  indeed. 

Rob.     I  apologize.     What  have  I  done? 

Ann.     You  passed  me  yesterday  vdthout  looking 
at  me. 

Rob.     If  I   had   looked  at  you,   I   never  should 
have  passed. 

Ann.     You  excuse  yourself  so  prettily  that  I  can- 
not take  offense. 

Rob.     Then  don't. 

Ann.     I  won't,  but  don't  let  it  occur  again. 

Rob.     I  promise.     It  is  just  one  year  today  since 
I  first  met  you. 

Ann.     I  know  it. 

Rob.     Had  you  thought  of  it? 

Ann.     Yes,  why? 

Rob.     Oh,  I  just  wondered. 

Ann.     Is  it  any  more  strange  that  I  should  re- 
member it  than  that  you  should? 

Rob.     Yes,  it  wasn't  so  important  an  event  for 
you  as  it  was  for  me. 

Ann.     Well,  it  was  important  enough  to  remem- 
ber. 

Rob.     I  am  pleased  to  know  that. 

Ann.     I  must  have  been  a  sight  when  you  first 
saw  me. 

Rob.     You  were. 

Ann.     A  fright,  I  mean.     I  was  so  provoked  to 


88  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

have  a  blowout  the  first  time  I  had  ever  taken  the 
car  for  a  long  drive  alone;  and  more  provoked 
when  after  an  hour's  work  I  had  made  little  or  no 
progress  toward  changing  tires ;  and  most  provoked 
to  think  that  all  my  trouble  was  brought  about  by 
the  intoxication  of  my  chauffeur. 

Rob.     I  appeared  at  the  psychological  moment. 

Ann.     You  did,  indeed. 

Rob.  The  story  of  our  meeting  reads  like  a 
page  from  a  novel.  Drunken  chauffeur;  indignant 
lady;  chauffeur  discharged;  lady  drives  car  alone; 
tire  blows  out;  lady  in  distress;  passing  stranger  of- 
fers aid ;  replaces  tire ;  lady  grateful ;  gives  stranger 
position  as  chauffeur ;  he  holds  it  eleven  m^onths ;  then 
through  her  influence  becomes  secretary  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  California.  Sounds  like  a  romance,  doesn't 
it?    Its  remarkable. 

Ann.  More  remarkable  are  the  far  reaching  ef- 
fects. 

Rob.     In  what  w^ay  do  you  mean? 

Ann.  Your  ideas  and  assistance  to  the  Governor 
and  to  me  have  w^orked  wonders. 

Rob.  Isn't  it  strange  how  often  events  which  one 
had  not  dared  even  to  hope  for,  come  to  pass  un- 
expectedly and  by  chance? 

Ann.  Yes.  Often  what  seems  a  trifle — a  mere 
nothing  in  itself,  turns  the  scale  of  Fate  and  changes 
the  trend  of  a  life. 

Rob.  That  day  surely  changed  mine.  Broken 
in  health  from  overwork  at  college,  without  funds, 
ordered  by  the  doctor  to  take  a  vacation  in  the  open 
air  and  to  give  up  my  ambition  to  follow  a  literary 
career,  I  found  you  in  need  of  a  chauffeur.  I  knew 
how  to  drive  a  car,  offered  my  services,  and  when 


ACT  III  89 

you  agreed  to  let  me  have  the  position,  it  was  my 
salvation. 

Ann.  And  it  proved  the  salvation  of  many  oth- 
ers. 

Rob.  Substract  all  that  I  owe  to  chance,  to  op- 
portunity, and  to  you,  and  but  little  will  remain  for 
which  I  deserve  credit. 

Ann.  Opportunit}'  does  not  supply  generous  mo- 
tives, nor  does  chance  create  ability. 

Rob.  You  were  the  inspiration  that  enlisted  tal- 
ents that  otherwise  would  have  lain  dormant.  I 
was  plunged  deep  in  bitterness  that  came  from  be- 
lieving the  ambition  of  my  life  could  not  be  realized. 
You  were  the  star  whose  bright  rays  reached  me  in 
my  gloom — you  were  the  beacon  that  led  me  out  of 
the  shadows. 

Ann.  It  makes  me  ver\-  happy  to  feel  that  I  have 
helped  you.  But  you  flatter  me  when  you  give  me 
so  much  credit  for  the  fine  things  that  you  have 
done. 

Rob.  It  is  only  the  truth.  I  have  said  little  to 
you  of  the  great  obligation  I  feel  for  all  that  you 
have  done  for  me,  but  I  do  want  you  to  understand 
how  much  you  are  responsible  for  the  very  things 
for  which  you  praise  me. 

Ann.  You  make  me  responsible  for  much.  But 
it  is  a  welcome  responsibility.  If  you  have  found  me 
an  inspiration,  it  is  because  I  have  found  an  an- 
swering inspiration  in  you. 

Rob.  You  have  been  more  than  an  inspiration  to 
me.  I  have  been  driven  by  a  divine  power,  created 
by  my  love  for  you.  I  love  you.  I  love  you  be- 
cause I  must  love  you.  It  is  not  within  my  power 
not  to  love  you. 


90  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

{Takes  her  hand.) 

Tell  me  you  are  not  angry  at  what  I  have  said. 

Ann.     I  am  not  angry. 

Rob,  May  I  hope  that  in  time  you  will  learn 
to  love  me? 

Ann.     I  have  already  learned  that. 

Rob.     And  do  you  love  me? 

Ann.     Yes.     {Kiss.) 

Rob.  Is  anything  sw-eeter  than  the  consciousness 
of  true  love? 

Ann.  Yes,  it  is  sweeter  to  know  that  you  love 
me. 

Rob.  I  do  love  you.  And  it  w^ere  but  little, 
could  I  say  how  much.  It  seems  as  if  I  have  al- 
ways loved  you. 

Ann.  Isn't  it  difficult  to  know  at  what  moment 
love  begins? 

Rob.  Yes.  It  is  a  thing  divine — a  gift  from 
Heaven,  unswayed  by  our  control.  It  seizes  on  us 
suddenly  without  giving  warning.  It  cannot  be  pre- 
meditated. The  most  precious  possession  that  ever 
comes  to  a  man  in  this  world  is  a  woman's  heart. 

Ann.  Your  love  makes  earth  a  paradise  for  me, 
and  life  most  sublimely  grand  and  glorious — It's  a 
mighty  solemn  thing  to  get  married,  isn't  it? 

Rob.  Yes,  but  wouldn't  it  be  more  solemn  not 
to?  A  man  would  have  no  pleasure  in  discovering 
all  the  beauties  of  the  universe,  even  in  Heaven  it- 
self, unless  he  had  a  partner  to  whom  he  might  com- 
municate his  joys.  How  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  of 
the  delight,  the  joy,  the  ecstasy,  which  your  love  im- 
parts; words  fail  me — Do  you  know^,  I  believe  the 
man  who  invented  the  English  language  never  was 
in  love. 


ACT  III  91 

Ann.     Why? 

Rob.  He  didn't  invent  any  words  to  express  it. 
Ann.  You're  a  darling.  Doesn't  that  express  it? 
Rob.     Splendidly.     (Kiss.) 

(Curtain) 


ACT  IV 

One  week  later. 

(Same  as  Act  III.  Nogi  dusting  vigorously. 
Enter  Lord  N.) 

Lord  N.     I  see  Miss  Ann  is  not  here,  is  she? 

Nogi.     No  sir. 

Lord  N.     I  will  wait  for  her. 

Nogi.     Yes  sir.     Take  a  chair. 

Lord  N.     I  am  Lord  Nowit. 

Nogi.  Yes  sir.  Yes  sir.  Take  two  chairs.  Right 
away  w^hen  I  know  who  you  are  I  recognize  you. 
Miss  Ann  sure  be  here  soon. 

(Enter  Ann.      Greetings.) 

Lord  N.     How  is  Gretchen  this  morning? 

Ann.  She  is  comfortable  and  much  more  calm 
than  she  has  been  since  her  father's  death. 

Lord  N.     That  is  good  news,  really. 

Ann.  She  said  she  would  like  to  see  you  after 
luncheon. 

Lord  N.  I  am  pleased  to  hear  that,  indeed  I 
am.  You  know  I  must  thank  you  for  your  extreme 
kindness  to  Gretchen.  When  she  heard  of  the  au- 
tomobile accident  by  which  her  father  was  killed, 
it  was  such  a  frightful  shock  to  her.  The  dear  girl, 
you  know,  was  left  without  a  relative,  and  what 
she  needed,  really,  was  just  such  a  friend  as  j'ou 
have  been  to  her.  I  say.  Miss  Ann,  I  am  very,  ver}' 
grateful  to  you. 

Ann.  Gretchen  has  been  ver}^  brave  in  her  mis- 
92 


ACT  IV  93 

fortune.     She  is  a  wonderful  girl. 

Lord  N.     Isn't  she,  though? 

Ann.  No  daughter  was  ever  more  devoted  to 
a  father,  than  she,  although  she  was  so  superior  to 
him  in  every  way. 

Lord  N.  I  observed  that  very  often,  and  really 
adored  her  the  more  for  it. 

Ann.  She  never  acted  toward  him  as  if  she  felt 
that  he  was  her  inferior. 

Lord  N.  It  was  a  ver^-  clever  idea  of  yours  that 
I  should  marr}-  Gretchen.  Since  our  engagement, 
I  have  actually  grown  quite  fond  of  the  girl. 

Ann.  I  am  sure  that  you  will  love  her  and  that 
you  will  be  happy  together. 

Lord  N.     Aw,  yes.     Most  assuredly. 

{Enter  Frank.      Greetings.) 

Fr.     I   expected   to  find   Lucille  here  with  you. 

Ann.  No,  I  left  her  v^ith  Ruth.  They  will  be 
down  later. 

Fr.  I  am  disappointed.  I  looked  forward  to 
seeing  her. 

Lord  N.  She  is  really  a  most  engaging  young- 
ster. 

Fr.  You  should  have  heard  her  spell  cat  last 
night. 

Ann.     How  did  she  spell  it? 

Fr.     Guess. 

Ann.     K-a-t. 

Fr.      No. 


Lord  N. 

K-a-t-t. 

Fr.      No. 

Lord  N. 

C-a-t-t. 

Fr.      No. 

Lord  N. 

C-a-t-e. 

94  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Fr.     No. 

Lord  N.     C-a-a-t. 

Fr.     No. 

Lord  N.     Well,  then,  how  did  she  spell  it? 

Fr.     C-a-t. 

Lord  N.  Aw,  but  that  is  the  way  one  really 
spells  cat,  isn't  it,  now?  I  feel  that  it  is  time  for 
me  to  be  going. 

{Exit  Lord  N.) 

Ann.  You  are  never  satisfied  unless  you  can  jest 
at  Lord  Nowit's  expense. 

Fr.  He  is  such  a  good  subject.  He  lends  him- 
self so  readily  to  a  jest. 

Ann.  Many  a  word  spoken  in  jest  sinks  deeper 
than  ever  was  intended  or  expected  and  causes  un- 
necessary pain. 

Fr.  Well  said,  and  true.  But  Lord  Nowit 
causes  me  a  lot  of  unnecessary^  pain.  Let  me  give 
you  a  painless  one  on  him.  The  other  day  he  was 
talking  about  the  servants  he  expects  to  have  after 
his  marriage  to  Gretchen;  and  he  said:  ''Tell  me, 
dear  boy,  do  these  Japs  they  have  about  the  house- 
hold bathe  the  dishes?" 

Here's  another  on  him.  Last  Sunday  he  was 
suffering  from  tooth  ache,  and  asked  me  for  medi- 
cine to  relieve  the  pain.  In  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation he  remarked :  "Wouldn't  it  have  been  a 
great  blessing  to  have  been  born  without  teeth?"  I 
replied,  "Well,  weren't  you?"  His  expression  was 
worth  traveling  miles  to  see. 

He  reminds  me  of  something  I  want  to  forget. 

Ann.     Well,  let's  forget  him,  for  the  present. 

Fr.  Agreed.  There  are  a  few  other  things  I 
want  to  forget. 


ACT  IV  95 

Ann.     For  instance? 

Fr.     I  want  to  forget  my  misfortunes. 

Ann.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  remember  them, 
and  avoid  them  ? 

Fr.  I  have  tried,  and  tried.  You  don't  know 
how  hard  I  have  tried,  but  I  can't,  here.  I  am 
going  away  from  it  all.  I  have  been  appointd  first 
lieutenant  in  the  Fifth  Cavalry-  and  am  going  to  ac- 
cept it.  The  regiment  has  been  ordered  to  the  front, 
and  I  will  leave  tomorrow  to  join  it.  Wc  will  be 
under  fire  within  a  month. 

Ann.  Please,  Frank,  don't  do  that;  for  my  sake, 
don't  do  that. 

Fr.  It  is  too  late.  I  have  alreadv  been  appoint- 
ed. 

Ann.     But  you  don't  have  to  accept. 

Fr.  Yes,  I  have  decided.  Conditions  here  have 
become  intolerable. 

Ann.  You  have  made  the  conditions:  30U  can 
change  them.  Be  the  man  that  you  are.  The  place 
to  fight  it  out  is  here. 

Fr.     You  must  think  me  depraved. 

Ann.  No  man  who  shows  such  love  as  you  have 
for  little  Lucille  and  as  you  have  shown  for  me,  can 
be  quite  depraved. 

Fr.  If  we  were  not  cousins.  I  wonder  \{  I  might 
not  have  won  jour  love. 

Ann.  No,  it  is  not  that.  We  were  brought  up 
together.  You  have  been  more  brother  than  cousin 
to  me,  and  I  have  taken  a  sister's  privilege  of  scold- 
ing you  for  your  sins.  With  all  your  faults,  I  have 
grown  to  love  you  as  dearly  as  any  sister  could. 

Fr.  But  only  as  a  sister.  For  years  I  hoped 
that  you  might  be  more  than  cousin  or  sister  to  me. 


96  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

I  remember,  on  your  tenth  birthday,  some  one  ask- 
ed why  I  did  not  marry.  I  said  I  would  if  I  could 
find  a  girl  who  would  have  me.  You  instantly  look- 
ed up  at  me  and  said:  "Why,  I  will  marr}^  you.  I 
love  you."  From  that  day  I  have  lived  in  the  hope 
that  as  a  young  lady  of  twenty  you  would  keep  that 
promise.  It  meant  so  much  to  me.  You  were  my 
ideal  in  every  way.  I  frequently  gave  you  trifles, 
and  on  giving  you  a  ring  when  you  were  about 
twelve,  you  put  your  arms  around  my  neck,  told 
me  how  very  much  you  loved  me,  and  said:  "Don't 
always  buy  me  presents.  I  would  love  you  just  as 
much  anyhow."  You  did  love  me  until  at  the  age 
of  seventeen,  you  went  away  to  school.  You  were 
gone  tvvo  years.  When  you  returned,  your  attitude 
changed  decidedly.  You  have  never  been  the  same 
to  me  since  that  time.  You  did  love  me,  didn't 
you,  Ann  ? 

Ann.     I   did,  very  much;  and   I   still  do. 

Fr.     But  why  did  you  change  so  ? 

Ann.  I  changed  because  I  saw  that  you  had 
changed. 

Fr.  Why,  I  loved  you  then  even  more  than  be- 
fore. 

Ann.  The  change  to  which  I  refer  was  not  in 
your  feelings  toward  me.  Your  standard  of  man- 
hood had  changed.  When  I  went  away  to  school, 
you  were  clean,  high-minded,  honorable,  respected 
and  ambitious.  When  I  returned,  I  found  you  with- 
out ambition,  drinking,  gambling,  selfish;  a  cynic, 
sneering  and  scoffing  at  those  qualities  which  I  had 
admired  in  you.  You  had  lost  your  self-respect,  and 
were  losing  the  respect  of  others. 

Fr.     If  you  had  married  me  on  your  return,  all 


ACT  IV  97 

would  have  been  different.     You  would  have  saved 
me. 

Ann.  If  a  man's  innate  self-respect  does  not 
save  him,  all  the  female  influence  in  the  universe 
would  not  avail. 

Fr.  You  have  always  been  sisterly  in  your  frank- 
ness, to  say  the  least. 

Ann.  Few  persons  have  the  wisdom  to  prefer 
censure,  which  is  useful  to  them,  to  praise,  which  de- 
ceives them. 

Fr.  Don't  censure  me  now.  I  am  going.  Will 
you  kiss  me  good-bye? 

Ann.  Certainly,  but  your  going  distresses  me. 
If  you  feel  that  I  can  be  of  help  to  you.  stay  and 
give  me  the  privilege.  Most  of  your  shortcomings 
are  due  to  liquor.  No  habit,  custom  or  practice  is 
so  powerful  that  it  may  not  be  subdued  by  discipline. 
You  can  cease  drinking  as  easily  as  you  can  open 
your  hand. 

Fr.     What  do  you  mean  ? 

Ann.  Simply  this.  (Takes  glass.)  Whenever 
vou  start  to  raise  liquor  to  your  lips,  open  your  hand. 
(Opens  her  hand  and  glass  drops  to  floor.) 

Fr.  I  can.  and  I  \vill.  Let  this  be  my  parting 
pledge  to  you, — one  that  I  will  not  break.  Good- 
bye.    (Kiss.) 

Ann.     Don't  say  good-bye.     I  love  you  for  that 
promise,  and  I  do  belie\'e  you  will  keep  it.     Make 
me  just  one  more  promise. 
Fr.     What  is  it? 

Ann.     That  you  will  not  join  the  army. 
Fr.     You  are  asking  too  much.  Am  I  too  good  to 
serve  my  country? 

Ann.     No,  love  of  country  is  a  lofty  virtue.     But 


98  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

you  can  better  serve  it  with  your  life  than  by  your 
death.  And  you  are  too  good  to  commit  murder  in 
the  name  of  ^var. 

Fi\  Murder?  Nonsense!  You  are  sentimental. 
You  don't  understand. 

Ann.     It  is  you  who  do  not  understand. 

"War,  cruel  war,  is  only  splendid  murder; 
One  murder  marks  the  assassin's  odious  name, 
But  millions  bring  the  hero  into  fame." 

Fr.     You  malign  all  the  heroes  of  the  past. 

Ann.  No,  no.  I  would  not  do  that.  But  times 
have  changed.  We  have  reached  that  point  in  civ- 
ilization where  war  is  no  longer  necessary'. 

Fr.  It  is  ridiculous  to  compare  a  soldier  in  battle 
with  an  assassin.  The  soldier  strikes  only  for  his 
country;  the  assassin  is  the  enemy  of  his  country  and 
strikes  only  for  his  own  sordid  ends. 

Ann.  Is  death  more  cruel  from  the  private  dag- 
ger than  in  the  field  visited  upon  thousands  by  the 
hands  of  thousands? 

Fr.  War  is  necessar}^  always  has  been,  and  al- 
ways will  be.  It  is  man's  nature  to  fight.  A  nation 
is  merely  a  great  number  of  individuals.  To  a  na- 
tion, war  typifies  the  same  spirit  that  impels  a  man 
to  resort  to  his  fists.  If  one  nation  infringes  upon 
the  rights  of  another,  then  must  that  other  nation 
resort  to  war  to  protect  itself. 

Ann.  What  you  say  is  true  of  men  in  a  state  of 
barbarism.  But  in  so  far  as  we  are  removed  from 
barbarism,  just  so  far  are  we  removed  from  the 
necessity  for  war.  As  courts  have  taken  the  place  of 
fighting,  to  settle  individual  differences,  as  well  as 


ACT  IV  99 

differences  between  cities,  counties  and  states,  so  an 
international  court  can  be  used  to  settle  all  differ- 
ences between  nations. 

Fr.  God  created  man  with  this  fighting  spirit  in 
him.  To  subdue  it,  you  must  change  human  nature. 
That  is  impossible.  Until  the  impossible  is  accom- 
plished, a  court  of  peace  will  be  impossible. 

Ann.  It  is  not  necessary  to  change  human  nature. 
Human  nature  does  not  demand  war,  with  all  its 
passion,  hatred,  envy  and  greed ;  its  ravaging  and 
raging;  its  famine,  want  and  misery.  In  ever\^  man. 
there  is  an  inborn  instinct  for  fair  play.  Human 
nature  does  not  insist  that  might  makes  right;  but 
rather,  that  the  weak  shall  not  suffer  injustice  be- 
cause of  the  strength  of  the  mighty.  Study  history 
and  learn  what  wonders  have  been  accomplished  by 
arbitration,  where  right  prevails,  without  sorrow,  de- 
vastation and  death.  In  this  country,  more  than 
eighty  controversies  which  might  otherwise  have  led 
to  war  between  civilized  nations,  have  been  settled 
by  arbitration. 

Fr.  "As  long  as  there  is  injustice  in  the  world, 
men  will  make  war  against  it!" 

Ann.  That  is  true,  and  for  that  ver>-  reason  war 
will  be  abolished,  because  war  itself  is  the  greatest 
injustice  and  iniquity.  "It  is  the  foulest  fiend  ever 
loosed  from  Hell."  It  enables  the  strong  to  tread 
upon  the  weak.  Its  heaviest  burdens  fall  upon  those 
least  able  to  bear  them.  To  the  soldier  slain  in 
battle,  death  is  the  end  :  but  the  heavy  hand  of  war 
oppresses  the  widow  and  orphan  long  after  the  sol- 
dier's requiem  is  stilled.  War  proves  nothing,  save 
which  nation  is  stronger.  It  has  no  relation  to  jus- 
tice. 


loo  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

Fr.  "Wars  will  not  cease  as  long  as  men  have 
ambition,  pride,  love  of  liberty  and  courage." 

Ann.  Those  are  the  very  things  that  will  make 
war  impossible — true  ambition,  true  pride,  true  love 
of  liberty,  true  courage.  There  is  no  worthy  ambi- 
tion which  does  not  seek  the  welfare  of  mankind. 
How  much  better  for  the  human  race  to  enjoy  the 
blessings  of  peace  than  to  groan  under  the  tortures 
of  war.  That  pride  is  false  pride  which  can  be 
gratified  in  no  other  way  than  by  grinding  the 
wealth  and  manhood  of  a  nation  in  the  mills  of  war, 
producing  a  grist  of  poverty,  cripples  and  death.  If 
you  love  liberty,  you  must  hate  war,  because  war 
restrains  the  liberty  of  the  strong  and  destroys  the 
liberty  of  the  weak.  Courage  is  only  deserving  of 
the  name  when  it  stands  simply  for  right  and  jus- 
tice. "A  valiant  and  brave  soldier  seeks  rather  to 
preserve  one  citizen  than  to  destroy  a  thousand  ene- 
mies." 

Fr.  Well,  suppose  a  court  of  peace  were  estab- 
lished, how  could  it  ever  enforce  its  decrees? 

Ann.  The  same  spirit  which  would  impel  na- 
tions to  submit  to  arbitration  would  impel  them  to 
accept  the  verdict.  In  the  future  as  in  the  past,  the 
honor  of  nations  will  suffice. 

Fr.     But  suppose  it  didn't? 

Ann.  The  united  power  of  all  the  civilized  na- 
tions would  be  behind  the  court,  just  as  the  united 
force  of  the  people  of  this  state  supports  the  local 
courts.  A  rebelling  nation  would  be  as  helpless  as 
one  man  rebelling  against  all  his  fellow  citizens. 

Fr.  War  is  not  a  thing  to  be  wished  for,  and 
yet  it  is  not  an  unmixed  evil. 

Ann.     It  is  an  unmixed  evil.     It  is  all  evil.  What 


ACT  IV  loi 

good  thing  comes  from  it? 

Fr.  It  stimulates  the  manufacture  of  arms  and 
supplies. 

Ann.  Yes,  and  of  spoiled  beef,  artificial  arms 
and  legs,  paper  soled  shoes,  and  shoddy  army  cloth. 

Fr.  The  armies  and  navies  give  direct  employ- 
ment to  thousands  and  thousands. 

Ann.  Yes,  to  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  thous- 
ands; to  millions. 

Fr.     Surely  not  millions. 

Ann.  Yes.  There  are  about  three  millions  kept 
under  arms  year  after  year. 

Fr.  That  makes  my  argument  all  the  stronger. 
Then  it  gives  employment  to  that  many  millions. 

Ann.  But  at  whose  cost?  That  of  the  people, 
principally  the  laborers.  The  present  cost  of  the 
armies  of  Europe  is  over  $500,000,000  per  year. 
The  interest  on  w^ar  debts  paid  by  the  people  is 
over  $500,000,000  more  per  year.  It  has  been  well 
said  that  every  workingman  in  Europe  carries  on 
his  back  a  fully  equipped  soldier  or  sailor. 

Fr.  I  think  you  have  been  misinformed.  I  think 
those  figures  are  exaggerated. 

Ann.  I  obtained  them  from  most  reliable 
sources.  But  discount  them  fifty  or  sevent}'-five  per 
cent  if  you  like,  and  the  result  is  nevertheless  appal- 
ling. "Give  me  the  money  that  has  been  spent  in 
war,  and  I  could  purchase  almost  ever>'  foot  of  land 
upon  the  globe.  I  could  clothe  every  man,  woman 
and  child  in  attire  of  which  kings  and  queens  would 
be  proud.  I  could  build  a  school  house  on  ever}' 
hill-side,  and  in  ever}'  valley  over  the  whole  earth. 
I  could  build  an  academy  in  every  town,  and  endow 
it ;  a  college  in  ever}'  state,  and  fill  it  with  able  pro- 


I02  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

fessors.  I  could  crown  every  hill  with  a  place  of 
worship.  I  could  support  in  ever\'  pulpit  an  able 
teacher  of  righteousness,  of  the  gospel  of  peace  on 
earth,   good   will   to   men." 

Fr.  Even  your  preachers  of  peace  on  earth  would 
be  constantly  at  war  among  themselves.  It  is  hard 
to  get  one  of  them  to  occupy  another's  pulpit.  It 
is  true  that  the  cost  of  war  has  been  stupendous ;  but 
the  manifold  advancements  in  human  progress  which 
has  been  achieved  on  the  fields  of  battle  have  justi- 
fied  it. 

An?i.  Be  that  as  it  may,  they  have  not  justified 
the  cost  in  human  life.  Do  you  know  how  many 
lives  were  lost  in  the  Civil  War? 

Fr.     No,  how  many? 

Ann.  More  than  half  a  million.  The  slaughter 
of  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  the  whole  state 
of  Oregon  would  be  no  greater  than  that  wrought 
by  this  one  war.  And  yet  the  catastrophe  would  not 
be  so  horrible,  because  it  would  leave  no  cripples, 
and  would  not  bring  sorrow  and  anguish  to  so  many 
different  families,  as  war  destroys  only  vigorous 
men,  most  of  them  the  mainstays  of  families. 

Fr.  Warfare  now  is  not  so  inhuman  as  it  was 
formerly.  There  is  not  so  much  bloodshed,  the 
wounded  are  better  cared  for,  and  prisoners  are 
treated  more  considerately. 

Ann.  With  all  that,  the  horrors  of  war  are  not 
sensibly  abated. 

Fr.     Well,   I   am  going. 

Ann.     You  won't  stav? 

Fr.     No. 

Ann.     Nothing  I  can  say  or  do  will  prevent  you? 

Fr.     Nothing. 


ACT  IV  103 

Ann.  Then  don't  forget  the  promise  you  made 
to  Lucille. 

Fr.     What  promise? 

Ann.  That  if  you  went  to  war.  you  would  never 
kill  the  father  of  a  little  girl  like  her.  You  ought 
not  to  kill  the  father  of  a  little  boy.  either.  Abo. 
remember,  that  brothers,  sweethearts,  sons  and  hus- 
bands should   not  be  killed. 

Fr.  You  have  killed  the  spirit  within  me.  "^'ou 
make  it  impossible  for  me  to  go. 

Ann.     Oh,  Frank,  truly? 

Fr.     Yes,  truly. 

Ann.  Then  the  spirit  within  you  is  not  killed, 
but  only  awakened. 

Fr.     You  are  right. 

{Embrace  and  kiss.) 

Ann.  That  is  a  noble  thing  for  you  to  do.  I  never 
loved  you  so  much  as  I  do  now.  {Kisses  Frank. 
Enter  Robert,  finds  Ann  in  Frank's  arms.) 

Ann.  Oh,  Bob,  Frank  has  promised  me  that  he 
will  not  join  the  army. 

Rob.  Good  for  you.  old  man ;  but  why  this  sud- 
den change? 

Fr.     Ann  is  responsible  for  it.     Ask  her. 

Rob.     You   are   a  wonder,   Ann. 

Fr.  She  is  that.  And  as  I  could  not  win  her, 
there  is  no  other  man  I  would  rather  see  have  her 
than  you.  Bob.  I  believe  you  are  worthy  of  her. 
You  know  what  that  means. 

Rob.  I  do.  That  is  a  genuine  compliment,  and 
I  thank  you  for  it. 

Fr.  I  must  leave  you  now.  Au  revoir,  but  not 
good-bye. 

Rob.     Before  vou  eo,  I  insist  on  vour  returning 


104  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

the  kiss  I  saw  you  take  from  Ann. 

Ann.     My  master's  voice.     Heed  it. 

Fr.     Willingly.     {Kiss.) 

{Frank  shakes  hands  with  Robert.     Exit.) 

Rob.  You  are  a  girl  of  girls.  With  you  to  live 
is  not  merely  to  breathe;  it  is  to  act.  How  did  you 
persuade  Frank  to  stay  out  of  the  army  ?  You  must 
have  hypnotized  him. 

Ann.  I  just  reminded  him  of  his  promise  to 
Lucille. 

Rob.     And  that  did  it? 

Ann.  Yes,  after  all  my  arguments  had  failed.  By 
the  way  we  have  an  invitation  to  a  very  elaborate 
affair  which  Mrs.  Allrich  intends  giving  two  weeks 
from  tonight.     Do  you  want  to  accept? 

Rob.     Just  as  you  please. 

Ann.  The  Four  Hundred  will  be  there.  I  guess 
they  can  manage  to  get  along  without  us.    Let's  not 

go. 

Rob.  All  right.  Why  is  it  that  the  Four  Hun- 
dred won't  mix  with  the  Five  Hundred  or  the  Three 
Hundred  much  better  than  oil  does  with  water? 

Ann.  I  have  often  wondered  at  that.  Many  are 
kept  in  position  mainly  by  their  pinnacles  of  gold. 
The  leaders  of  society  are  chosen  from  those  having 
the  highest  pinnacles;  whether  knave  or  blockhead 
is  of  little  consequence. 

Rob.  Wonderful  leaders  they,  really  slaves  to  it. 
Busily  engaged  in  the  frivolous  work  of  polished 
idleness ;  elevating  their  heels  instead  of  their  minds. 

Ann.  With  them  it  is  anvthing  to  make  time 
fly. 

Rob.  And  in  the  effort,  they  divide  themselves 
into  two  classes — the  bores  and  the  bored.     They 


ACT  IV  105 

pursue  nothing  but  pleasure.  Their  round  of  life  is 
to  play,  to  eat  and  to  sleep.  They  profess  to  love 
life,  yet  they  squander  time,  the  stufiE  that  life  is 
made  of. 

Ann.  I  should  think  such  a  life  of  pleasure  the 
most  unpleasing  life  in  the  world. 

Rob.     And  the  most  selfish. 

Ann.  Yes.  Few  of  them  ever  dream  of  trying 
to  make  the  world  a  better  place  to  live  in,  or  of 
extending  the  hand  of  brotherhood  to  the  needy,  the 
sick,  or  the  fallen. 

Rob.  They  may  dream  of  it  in  dreams  that  are 
but  dreams.  Such  thoughts  would  never  enter  their 
minds  while  awake.  They  are  foreign  to  the  self 
imposed  and  all  absorbing  obligations  of  high  soci- 
ety. 

Ann.  We  should  not  be  too  severe  on  the  Four 
Hundred — many  give  quite  literally  of  their  sur- 
plus cash. 

Rob.  Of  their  surplus  cash — well  chosen  words. 
Metallic  aid ;  often  a  small  percentage  of  the  sur- 
plus given  to  square  themselves;  as  a  balm  to  their 
consciences,  and  to  open  the  gates  of  Paradise.  No 
heart  or  soul  or  spirit  is  in  the  gift. 

{Enter  Mrs.  W.  and  Ruth.     Greetings.) 

Ann.  Where  are  Lucille  and  Junior?  I  thought 
that  you  would  bring  them  both. 

Mrs.  W.  We  had  Lucille,  but  Frank  just  stole 
her  from  us.    The  maid  took  Junior  to  the  park. 

Ann.     I'm  disappointed. 

Rob.  So  am  I.  I  wanted  to  congratulate  Junior 
on  his  second  birthday.     He's  a  great  chap. 

Mrs.  W.  Isn't  it  wonderful  how  these  little  tots 
endear  themselves.     Junior  is  such  a  mischief,  and 


io6  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

so  bright;  the  most  perfect  little  darling  ever  born. 
He  resembles  his  father  more  and  more  each  day. 
I  am  so  proud  of  him. 

Ruth.  Then  it's  because  he  so  resembles  his  fath- 
er that  he  is  such  a  wonder.  Think  of  your  daugh- 
ter. 

Mrs.  W.  You  know  I  mean  no  reflection.  You 
are  as  proud  of  the  likeness  as  I  am.  May  it  devel- 
op in  all  ways.  Night  and  morning  I  pray  that  he 
may  be  as  good  a  man  as  his  father.  No  better  was 
ever  created. 

Roh.  That's  true.  Junior  is  getting  to  be  quite 
a  chatterbox,  isn't  he? 

Mrs.  W .  Oh,  I  must  tell  you  what  he  said  to 
Mrs.  Brown  this  morning.  She  called,  and  while 
there  Lucille  gave  the  boy  a  whistle.  He  was  con- 
stantly blowing  it  and  so  I  said:  "Don't  blow  the 
whistle  till  the  lady  goes."  Quick  as  a  flash  he 
w^ent  to  Mrs.  Brown  and  said:  "Lady  go.  Lady, 
go."     We  just  screamed.     {All  laugh.) 

Mrs.  W.     Where  is  the  Governor? 

Roh.     He  will  be  here  soon. 

Mrs.  W .  I  can't  be  reconciled  to  his  resignation. 
It  seems  a  pity  for  him  to  give  up  his  office  as  gov- 
ernor and  his  chances  of  being  president.  It  would 
be  a  great  honor  for  him,  and  he  in  turn  would 
be  an  honor  to  the  nation.  He  is  the  calibre  of 
which  presidents  should  be  made.  He  combines  all 
the  manly  virtues.  He  has  the  heart  to  conceive  the 
best  interests  of  the  people,  the  understanding  to 
direct,  and  the  power  to  execute. 

{Enters  George.     Greetings.) 

Ruth.  You  should  have  heard  the  nice  speech 
mother  just  made  about  you.     She  wants  to  bestow 


ACT  IV  107 

the  presidency  upon  you. 

Geo.  I  guess  that  is  the  same  office  I  refused 
from  Gus  last  week.  Having  refused  his  offer,  it 
does  not  seem  right  that  I  should  accept  it  from  any 
one  else. 

Mrs.  W.  Don't  joke.  I  am  serious.  You  really 
should  be  president. 

Geo.  Yours  is  an  opinion  common  to  mothers. 
Most  of  them  think  their  boy?  should  be  president. 

We  have  just  probated  Gus'  will. 

Mrs.  IV.  Oh,  I  am  just  dying  to  know^  what  he 
did  with  his  property.     Tell  us  all  about  it. 

Rob.     Who  drew  the  will? 

Geo.  Judge  Marshall.  Gus  wanted  me  to  draw 
it,  but  his  desires  were  so  contrary  to  my  ideas  of 
right  that  I  refused. 

Mrs.  W.     Did  he  leave  it  all  to  Gretchen? 

Geo.  Well.  Gretchen  will  get  most  of  it  if  she 
lives  long  enough.  He  creates  a  trust  providing  for 
the  accumulation  of  his  fortune  for  as  long  a  period 
as  the  law  will  permit,  and  gives  Gretchen  a  very 
small  part  of  the  income  each  year. 

Ruth.     I  wonder  why  he  did  that? 

Rob.  He  was  keen.  He  knew  Gretchen's  dis- 
position and  her  generous  impulses  and  no  doubt 
feared  that  she  would  disburse  the  greater  part  in 
much  the  same  way  as  the  Governor  and  Ann  are 
doing  with  theirs. 

Mrs.  W .  It  wouldn't  surprise  me  if  Lord  Now- 
it  would  refuse  to  marry  her  under  such  conditions. 

Ann.  It  would  surprise  me,  ver>'  much.  You 
don't  know  Lord  Nowit.  He  is  a  noble  fellow,  gen- 
erous to  a  fault. 

Geo.     Yes,  after  the  earthquake  he  tried  in  half 


io8  DOLLARS  AND  SENSE 

a  dozen  ways  to  help  me  most  substantially,  and 
was  highly  indignant  when  I  refused  to  let  him.  He 
even  wanted  to  quarrel  with  me  because  I  wouldn't 
borrow  fifty  thousand  from  him  on  my  note  with- 
out  interest. 

Rob.  He  always  wants  to  be  in  on  the  ground 
floor  when  there  is  an  opportunity  to  do  good.  I 
never  met  a  more  sincere  man,  nor  one  more  modest 
with  his  help. 

Ann.  If  Lord  Nowit  had  the  say,  he  would 
want  Gretchen  to  use  all  the  income  from,  her  fath- 
er's estate  for  philanthropic  purposes. 

Ruth.  How  strangely  he  is  misjudged.  How- 
little  his  real  character  is  appreciated. 

Rob.  Lord  Nowit  is  the  very  opposite  of  Gus. 
Tell  us  more  about  the  will. 

Geo.  It  is  prefaced,  ''In  the  name  of  God, 
Amen,"  and  it  is  the  most  ungodlike  document  I 
ever  read.  He  gave  $10,000  to  the  church,  and 
$3,000,000  for  a  monument  to  himself,  to  be  known 
as  the  Geldmacher  monument.  In  the  will  he  gives 
detailed  plans.  He  takes  the  Washington  monu- 
ment as  a  pattern,  and  proceeds  to  outdo  it.  His 
is  to  cost  twice  as  much,  be  two  hundred  feet  higher, 
all  of  marble,  and  very  elaborate. 

Rob.     He  gives  to  the  hungry  a  stone. 

Geo.  Yes,  and  he  wants  it  set  up  in  Golden 
Gate  park,  and  if  permission  is  refused,  then  he 
wants  the  trustees  of  his  estate  to  purchase  the  most 
suitable  acre  bordering  on  the  park  for  that  purpose. 

Rob.  The  authorities  surely  will  not  permit  it 
in  the  park,  and  they  ought  not  permit  it  any  place 
within  the  city  limJts.  "Those  only  deserve  a  mon- 
ument who  have  raised  themselves  a  monument  in 


ACT  IV  109 

the  heart  and  memories  of  men.  No  man  who  needs 
a  monument  ever  ought  to  have  one."  If  I  could 
prevent  the  erection  of  such  a  monument  in  any- 
place, I  would  be  tempted  to  do  so. 

Ann.  I  wouldn't,  dear.  The  marble  will  keep 
merely  a  cold  and  sad  memory  of  a  man  who  would 
otherwise  be  forgotten,  and  be  a  monumental  lesson 
against  selfishness.  If  this  monument  is  erected, 
nearly  all  the  money  will  go  to  pay  the  wages  of 
workingmen,  instead  of  being  hoarded  indefinitely 
with  the  rest  of  his  millions. 

Rob.  There  never  was  a  cloud  too  dark  for 
vou  to  find  its  silver  linine.  A  fortunate  trait,  in- 
deed. 

Ruth.  I  wonder  if  he  doesn't  realize  now  that  it 
would  have  been  better  for  him  to  have  lived  rich 
than  to  have  died  rich. 

Rob.  I  hope  so ;  otherwise  he  will  be  rejoicing  in 
the  fact  that  he  beat  the  inheritance  tax,  and  that 
the  State  won't  get  any  part  of  his  fortune. 

Geo.  He  was  rich  with  the  riches  that  he  neither 
gave  nor  enjoyed.  But  it  is  not  for  me  to  criticize 
him.  He  is  not  here  to  defend  himself.  He  has 
passed  beyond  the  mists  that  blind  us  here,  to  face 
a  Judge  of  infinite  wisdom.  "There  is  so  much 
good  in  the  worst  of  us,  and  so  much  bad  in  the 
best  of  us,  that  it  hardly  behooves  any  of  us  to  talk 
about  the  rest  of  us." 

{Curtain.) 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 

STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
50c  per  volume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 
demand  may  be  renewed  if  application  is  made  before 
expiration  of  loan  period. 


NOV  12  t9i6 


50m-7,'16 


i^HiAai-s   ijia   sense 


jia   sense  rvo» 

I         d 


NOV  12  191 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


